An Arusian Education
by LostinNY
Summary: Based loosely on Devil's Due Comic. Lotor and Allura spend a few months together on Arus when they were children.
1. Chapter 1

All characters of Voltron are owned by WEP. I based some of this on the Devil's Due comics. I liked the idea that Allura and Lotor knew each other as children and that a childhood romance had been hinted at. Never did this before. Review if you like. The story continues into his Academy years – but if everyone hates it – I shall burn the files.

An Arussian Education

Prologue

The tall Drule looked in the mirror and smiled. His people would barely recognize him anymore. He looked every bit the savage warlord. His hair was braided into a hundred strands tied in leather and carved bone beads. He had a long scar that followed his cheek. And his clothes were nothing more than a cloak, a snug fitting tunic, boots and a long immodest covering that was placed strategically around his waist. Five years had passed since his world had literally crumbled around him. Politics, being what they are, demanded he disappear. For all things there was a time and a place, and looking back, it was best to leave and go lick one's wounds in the chaos of the Western Territories. There, the true nature of his species could flourish. This primal, untamed region of space was both a nightmare and a paradise for an obligate carnivore with the need to slack his bloodlust. He pursued, hunted and killed until his soul could not bear the weight of another inequity. These years had been profitable ones, both in knowledge and in conquest. His father would be pleased with the fleet of treasure ships and star cruisers that accompanied the prince. He looked outside the port windows and sighed. _There will never be enough to buy his affection, but at least it might earn me some admiration._

His own thoughts disturbed him. He had just entered the boundaries of his father's realms and he was already falling into old patterns. He would give and the king would take. He was in no mood to play the groveling child anymore. He needed nothing from the man. He no longer needed to beg for ships, approval, or his very life. Soon he would be a Great King in his own right, if not by name than in reality. His own palaces and court put his father's to shame. He was certain that he could easily defeat the old king in the Arena. He should be coming home as an equal, but instead the fearful child was still there.

Then there was also the matter of the woman. The Western Territories had been a soothing poultice for that particular wound. The years had been devoted to conquering and organizing his sphere of influence, and during the days the very image of her had been forced to the recesses of his mind. But at night, the dreams of her in danger and dying in his arms eternally haunted him. His bloodline contained many races of Drule, but the one that called to him the most was the feared Wyverns. They had the power of the Sight. A seer could help him untangle the threads of his vision but he feared the truth behind the images would be too much to bear.

He had kept sporadic tabs on her over the years. He had seen clips of her coronation. He had watched her rebuild the world that his father, and he to some extent, had destroyed. He had expected her to marry a certain pilot or at least another royal but she remained unattached. A part of him was frustrated by this fact as then he might have put her away. He could have spent his nights moving from one bed to another, taking what physical pleasure he wanted from a woman, and not concerning himself with that petty emotion called love. He imagined himself threatening her into submission. The very thought of her prostrate before him caused him to be aroused and he quickly doused that image. He could easily take her beloved planet now. He was no longer a bumbling youth infatuated with her beauty. He caught himself. This way had never worked before. He was different now. Gorlos, the jewel of his Empire, had taught him patience. The prince was truly ready to become a king, maybe even a Great King, he just needed to bide his time.

His intercom whistled breaking him out of his thoughts.

"My Lord, we are entering Doom air space. Command Ship Batak has been granted permission to land." The bridge officer barked out.

"Proceed." His finger let go off the console. He opened a flask and took a mouthful of an unpleasant tasting liquid. He considered the flask and took another, longer drink. He went into the bathroom and rummaged for some mouthwash to wash away the taste. He felt rage build in him. It was best to meet his father this way. His hand smashed into the mirror hurling shards like small projectiles onto the smooth floor. He wiped away the blood that covered the remaining reflection, disgusted with the visage looking back at him. A voice welled up in his head.

_You cannot conquer what you fear._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One: the Homecoming

Twenty Years Ago

His father had called him home from school a month early. It was the final year in the primary grades and he had wanted to spend the last month of the session hunting instead of hiding from his father's wrath. The few times he had been home had not gone well. Finally, his exasperated and exhausted father decided it was best that he was sent for only when necessary. In the last three years, he could count the times he had been home on one hand – his sister's wedding, an official state visit by King Bhorn of the First Kingdom, and last, but not least, when he was made Crown Prince. He had been there for three whole cycles. After that, he was left alone.

The other boys went home for the holidays, but he was never sent for. He spent those days with either the custodial staff or some lowly scholar forced to put up with him. In his mind, he created a tale that he was an orphan. He imagined that his two loving parents that had been killed in a fiery crash with his sister, Leanarra. Other times, he imagined that he would find his sister and that they would be co-rulers of his father's vast Empire. His first reaction to the summons was sheer panic. He had been terrified. Even at the age of ten, he was quite aware that he was expendable. The older boys in school made him well aware of that.

They teased him about his small frame calling him a half-breed and a mongrel. Sometimes their words came with fists. They told him how much the court hated his mother and had begged his father to take a more suitable mate. They told him that his father hated her and that there were celebrations in the street when she died. The Drule king, they whispered, could not stand the sight of his puny child and that is why he was never called home. They told him that his father had taken another Drule to wife and would execute him when another son was born. Of course, Borak, his father's counselor had assured him that these were lies but he still had doubts. He did not doubt for a moment that his people wanted an heir of Korrinite blood to rule them and he barely had any of it running through his veins. They looked at him and saw a High Drule though a Drule of that variety would also offer derision on his appearance. The truth was that he was a hybrid of the worse kind; he had both human blood and that of the feared Wyvern running through his veins, neither group popular with the majority of any race of Drules.

He had tried hard to put their harsh words aside. Self-doubt was not in his nature. If his teachers had to define the boy's main characteristics they would call him arrogant, stubborn and persistant. Some of the arrogance was earned. He worked harder than all the others – be it in academics, athletics or the sword. His father had sent him there after his mother died. That, in itself was unusual, since his caste never went to the First Schools. He had been very young. Most children of his age and status were still confined to a harem. Instead of academics, they were taught martial arts and forced to face the fists of their father's other children. But for some reason, his father did not have any other children but Leanarra and himself. It was not for lack of trying, his harem was filled with women but only his mother had ever produced any offspring.

His mother, Althea, died when he was seven. No one knew what to do with the boy. He could not stay in the harem which was so oddly childless over the years. Except for the boy's mother the other women had produced no offspring. The child was a stark reminder that they would never be elevated to queen. In the fragile world of music, silk and perfumes his life was in mortal danger. No other war master had come forward to take guardianship either. The Great King had spurned their own daughters to take to wife and had instead made a harem slave, a human alien, his _de facto_ queen and declared her child to be their Crown Prince.

Most of his life he had been cared for by various governesses and slaves and so his father initially kept to this. His mother had not been an ordinary concubine so she had little time for him. It was not for lack of love, Althea had adored him, it was just that his father had adored her even more and hated for her to leave his side. He had no interest in a child sitting beside them as he conducted whatever kingly duties kept him busy. In truth, though she was fiercely protective of both his sister and him, but the day to day chores of mothering did not interest her much.

Many times the boy had the sense that she resented bearing the children of the man he called father. At times, she seemed to reject her offspring. They were a reminder of the humiliation of her enslavement. This in itself was not the worse thing save for the gossip it incurred. Althea's wrath could be as bad as his father's when he was whiny or not cooperative. At times she had banned him from her presence for his misbehavior. This had been worse than any corporeal punishment his father had wracked upon his body. The court whispered that she hated the child since the Great King had forced himself upon her, but he never sensed that emotion in her. Althea was a complicated creature even when it came to how she felt about his father, or her children for that matter. The young child sensed her loathing and revulsion for his father, but there were others times he felt her begrudging sense of pride for the man who had chosen her above all others. It all depended upon her mood which changed like the unpredictable weather of their world. She was a temperamental creature.

In truth, it was a good thing that he spent his days with servants. The child had an incredible memory and a talented ear. In his child's mind, he just assumed everyone spoke their own language – and he became adept at learning them quickly as each year brought a new slew of servants from far off lands. His father's realm was large and there was much to learn.

His father had attempted to raise him at court but the task soon became too overwhelming. After his mother's death, he became a difficult child. He was openly defiant to both his father and his caretakers. He was always under everyone's feet. It was not all the child's fault. His father, for reasons the boy could not fathom, no longer tolerated his presence. The child acted out accordingly in hopes of getting his attention, usually in a negative way. The Great King appeared diffident to the child's fate. He was the first born son of a warmaster. It was his father's job to give him his first training in the sword. The swords were ordered, and his aides came to ask about the celebration that would mark this momentous milestone, but the party never occurred. This further confused the court. The court was rife with rumors that the king would declare the child unfit. He would then leave him to die in the mountains as was the warmaster's tradition. But he did not. He just ignored him.

So, after much debate with his warmasters, the Great King sent him away. It was decided that he would choose another mate and bring forth another heir to the throne. The child was sent away but the king did not move to take another woman for that purpose. The warmasters could push all they wanted but they realized that their king had unilaterally decided that Lotor would be his heir. It seemed that a bastard son, more human than anything else, was destined to be their king's heir.

The task of finding a suitable solution as to what to do with the child, as with all unusual problems that did not require the use of force, had fallen to Borak, the Royal Magistrate. The child was too young to survive a military academy. The King had left no orders about what to do. Borak handled the situation the best he could by drawing upon his own children's upbringing. It was not a perfect solution, but it was an acceptable alternative. He sent a warrior's son to a magistrate school – an idea, on the surface, that appeared ludicrous. The children of war had little to do with the children of letters. The school, hesitant at first, accepted the prince after his father paid the amount of a thousand tuitions. Who were they to question the judgment of the Royal Magistrate?

School also proved to be a nightmare of another sort. The other children refused to accept him. He was small. He had not been properly socialized in the ways of their caste. Instead of words he used his fists to show his anger, his schoolmates, who were much bigger, responded in the only discipline he seemed to understand. He was beaten by them frequently, and eventually no argument was needed for this to occur. His school masters did not fail to notice the bruises and cuts that covered the boy. Twice he had been sent to the hospital with life threatening injuries that required surgery It was Borak, and not his father, who came to visit him while he recovered. He would not name his attackers nor was he pressed to do so. Though a fair amount of hazing was customary in any Drule school, the school masters were aware that lines were being crossed. They feared that if the Great King Zarkon's only son died under their care then they would, even though these types of deaths were a common occurrence in these facilities, suffer the loss of their own heads. At other times, the schoolmasters assumed that the father was hoping that the half-breed would expire. They never heard from the Great King just the Royal Magistrate Borak– it was though the boy was an orphan.

The sons of warriors never came to their schools. They were raised in their father's harems until they went to their various military academies_. _The schoolmasters were not used to the ways of the warriors – they just taught academics. Yet, there amongst them walked a future warmaster, a thing feared by even their own people. They took what they wanted by Right of Might, an antiquated moral code. The lowliest of the boy's caste kept villas and harems, paid for by the wealth plundered from other worlds. It was payment for commanding the large armies that kept Korrinoth safe. The irony of it all was that the boy did not look like the fierce image that came to mind when one thought of a warmaster. They were an imposing lot. Most warmasters stood close to seven measures. They were hard as stone. Their bodies rippled with muscles from years of training. He was small and thin. The only thing about him that showed any future promise was his large hands which seemed to be out of proportion to the rest of him. The other thing that seemed out of place for his position was his beauty. It was as he stepped out of a child's fantasy book. He looked every bit a prince, not of the Drule Supremacy, but a magical forest.

Borak, as always, was efficient and professional. Every night he called the boy's tutors. He talked with the scholars. He checked the boy's homework and encouraged him. He was surprised how easily he kept up with the other boys. He had assumed that his mother, being human, would have left him a dullard – hardly capable of handling a Magistrate School. But then, he had the Mark of Jain which was usually accompanied by great intelligence, if not intellect. He was being schooled with the intellectual elite, not the brutish warriors that his father associated with, and was excelling. Borak was starting to take a perverse pride in the child and redoubled his efforts to coach him through. A warrior, he thought, trains his son with a sword and teaches his son to use his fists instead of words. Deep down, Borak looked down on that caste as all magistrates did. A magistrate, he thought, trains his son with books and teaches him how to use his brain. One ruled through fear, the other through law.

Upon the Royal Magistrates advice, the staff brought in a retired warmaster named Charak to teach him the martial arts. The warrior's prowess with the sword was legendary. The warmaster delighted in the child's agility and quickness. He taught him how to use not one but two swords. HeThe warmaster was pleased with his pupil.

The warmaster wondered why the boy's father, one of their greatest warriors, had refused to train his own son. This was considered to be one of life's greatest pleasures. Still, the training was necessary. If the child was truly one of their kind he would be very aggressive in his reactions to the world. With no preparation, he would be no better than a clever animal subject to the arbitrary laws of nature. He needed discipline to be able to deal with the nature that that came with his legacy of bloodlust, but there was none offered. Perhaps, the Great King wanted him to die as was the fate of the unfit. Yet, save for his size, there was no detectable defects except save impatience and arrogance. The impatience, Charak reasoned, could be dealt with through meditation and discipline. Arrogance, unfortunately, could only be tempered by life experience. The boy was clever. The boy was sly. The boy had no fear. The boy was a good hunter. He had the Mark of Jain. These traits, when combined with discipline, had the makings of a fine warrior king.

The warmaster shook his head as he watched him best his older and bigger classmates in the school's small arena . Every Korrinoth male was trained to the sword in case the ancient laws of the High Drule were invoked. These laws were laid down by the Great Empress herself and every sentient was allowed their protection. True, they were just the sons of magistrates but some had possessed the predatory lust that characterized their people. One of them had been fool enough to challenge the boy. The prince had almost killed his classmate when the warmaster had to grab his arm. The lazon sword almost burned the warmaster who then struck the boy for his foolishness. He looked at the crumbled figure on the ground and sighed. The boy needed a father to show him the ways of discipline.

"I hate you." The boy sobbed. The warmaster did not know if the cries were from pain or because he had been denied his kill. The older boy had brutalized him often.

"When I am older I shall challenge you to my father'sthe Arena. I will cut you to quarters for this insult. Warmaster Charak, it will give me great pleasure to watch your blood run." The warmaster lifted the child off the ground. He has used the breaking arts and he was sure he had heard some of the ribs crack.

"Then, little brother, I shall die happy for I will have served my king well." He gingerly carried the child out of the staging area. A broad smile crossed his face. How he had prayed that the gods had granted him such a son.

His school masters sent home glowing reports of his academic prowess but warned his father that the boy's growing ego was a sign of something more disturbing. It was suggested that it would be beneficial if the boy was placed in a less stressful environment until he was of age. The Great King Zarkon crumbled up the report and roared. He decided it was best to get the boy away from these fools who would only encourage his weaker side. It only proved what he feared. His son, corrupted by Arussian blood, was weak. The witch came with an idea. It would be good if he could understand their enemy. Perhaps, he should visit the humans in the neighboring system and learn their ways. The child was sent for.

The boy came home for three hours. Two and a half were spent with his father's intelligence officer, a quiet man named Timon, who carefully laid out for him what his father's intentions were and what was expected of him. All in all, he was to gather an impression of their Arussian neighbors. His father was planning on making a bold move soon that would shake up the Denubian Galaxy starting with Arus. Lotor thought little of this. For years he had heard whispered rumors of a planned grand invasion of the worlds his father traded with. He did not understand this as Korrinoth had grown so rich on diplomacy and trade and felt it was mostly just talk to keep the court gossip machine going and his father's warmasters busy in the command college planning theoretical attacks on Korrinoth's trading partners. Drules were one to make big boasts that hopefully were never fulfilled.

The boy was then called into his father's personal study. He fell before him in submission. Due to his age, he could not speak unless spoken too which served him well. He had nothing to say to the man. A full year had passed since he had laid eyes on the huge man. The young boy's eyes flew open as he stared at the man who glowered at him. He had forgotten how large the man was when one compared him to the size of the magistrates. A cruel smile crossed his face.

"I fathered only little girls. My son grows prettier every year." The clawed hand stroked his cheek. Lotor's face burned with shame. His father's insults were not so different from his classmates.

"My Lord, I took first in sword." The boy's words sputtered out.

"…Against future lawyers and bureaucrats. Of what glory is that? Did I ask you to speak? Do you think the words of a child interest me? At least your sister was easy to be rid off – but what do I do about you?" A sliver of a smile crossed his lips as he approached the boy.

"For the time being, I have arranged for you to live with the Royal House of Arus. One day, Arus will be ours – a fact that you will not share. It would behoove you to learn their ways and customs as you might rule over it one day if I have not replaced you by then." His fingers found the throat of the boy and lifted him high into the air. The child grasped at the hand trying to claw it away from his throat. His lungs felt like they were going to burst.

Finally Zarkon released him. Falling to the floor, he crawled away into the corner. Zarkon shook his head.

"The gods have cursed me with you. Leanarra is more painful to look at. She has her coloring, her eyes, her hair – . Her looks remind me of your mother - but where it counts she is all mine. You are something else. I have read your teachers reports. You have her temperment. I wish she had never birthed youI will turn you into a Drule if it kills you." Zarkon walked over and pulled the boy up. The boy brushed himself off, fixed his father with an arrogant eye, and dared to speak to the Great King.

"Why have you not taken another to bed? It should not have taken so long to replace me?" Zarkon was taken back by the boy's insolence. He wondered if the child had a death wish like his mother before him.

"I have not found a suitable mate. But when I do, it will be the first thing I will take care of." Zarkon's eyes had narrowed. He was well aware that the boy was watching his every move. He was focusing on his face, listening to his heartbeat, smelling his frustration. These things pleased Zarkon to no end. Perhaps, there was some hope.

"It should not be that hard. After all, my mother was just a human slave." At that, he slammed his fist into the boy's head which crashed the child into the wall. It was inappropriate for the child to show such disrespect to his mother. The child crumpled to the ground, obviously unconscious.

"I like to tell myself that you do not matter anymore. There is comfort in that. Leanarra is pregnant with twins and maybe my mistake can be undone." He hissed under his breath.

Zarkon was angered by himself, not for what he had done to the boy, but for letting thate damn child get to him again. This is how it was always between them. Zarkon had tried to blame it on the boy's humanness. Deep down, he knew it was the Drule blood in the boy that kept on edging him for the fight. Even at such an age he challenged him when the average Korronnite, let alone a child, would have shown him respect or fear. The fear was there, that he had felt, but the boy had swallowed it deep. He called the guards to get the boy and place him on the transport.

As they carried the child off, his advisor, the witch called Haggar, entered the room as the guards were carrying off the boy..

"Sire, I see your reunion went as well as your last parting." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You were supposed to find me the woman to bear my perfect heir." He growled. "Instead, I have produced a weak, bratty whelp with that Arussian whore." It always amused Haggar that no one else could disparage Althea but him.

"Althea was many things but I have never heard her called a whore. It was she that always paid the price for your affections and not the other way around. I remind you that she never took to your bed willingly. I never understood why you always wanted to negotiate what I was always so willing to give freely. It could still be yours if you want it." Haggar walked over and poured him a drink.

She fixed his cloak. It had become upended in the interview he had with his son. The Wyvern witch was still beautiful. He had taken great pleasure in her bed. He had thought to restore her place by his side after Althea died. Yet his lust for a woman's flesh had died when the Arussian did. It was not that women did not please him anymore. He enjoyed their company after a long day with men. But alas, when after watching them dance or feeling their hands on his flesh, he could no longer bring them affection. No amount of lust could rise that dead thing between his legs. Althea had truly left him cursed. The child, taunting him about not taking another to his bed, was only speaking the truth.

Obviously, the gods had deemed that Lotor would be his only son. He considered the little boy who had stood up to him and smiled. There was some strength in the child., and the arrogance that people would just assume came from his station was pure Althea. Oh, how that woman could rile those about her. His court, especially the women, had positively detested her. For a moment, he closed his eyes and brought forth her image. She had the most ridiculous smirk the Universe had ever seen. He had adored it.

Years later, that same smirk would return in the flesh to haunt him. And even though he would yell and downgrade its possessor, he would secretly delight when it emerged. That smirk would beg for a certain princess. And even though he knew what could happen when one fell for a cursed beauty, he would let his son go and after her. In his heart, it was not Lotor but Althea who was begging him the favor. Even then, with so many years between them, who was he to refuse her whims.

It was Haggar who returned his thoughts to the present. She heard him discussing Lotor again. He always wondered why she was so possessive of her rival's child.

"You did not ask me for a perfect heir. You asked me to find a mate that would produce the most cunning warrior the Universe had ever known. I have kept my part of the bargain." She handed him the wine.

"Really…I have no proof this deed was done." He grabbed the glass from her hand, draining it completely.

"He is but a boy. You put him away with legalists what did you expect? Give him time. Why did you hit him?" He placed the goblet on his desk and sighed.

"He questioned me. It was as though Althea was standing there. Althea is taunting me from the grave with that boy. Willing me to take her life rather than put up with my demands." Zarkon's hands smashed against his desk.

"She had no skill for self-preservation. Trust me, he yearns to live. This child is fated. He will not die by your hands though you will try to make it come about. You will find him a frustrating adversary more than a son_._" Haggar stated with a matter-of-fact tone. "It is good that you are sending him to Arus. Batak will make him strong there. When he is Emperor, he will move the capitol of the Drule Empire there."

"More of your fairy tales witch. You know I do not believe in the gods." The king moved to the large bay windows watching the transport take off. Deep down, he knew the witch told the truth. He harbored Wyvern blood and was also possessed with the Sight. He also had the dream. From the moment he saw the shock of white hair on the newborn's head, the Mark of Jain, he knew that his child would be Emperor. His family's name would live on through eternity. There would be a terrible price to pay for that privilege. At times, he wondered if it was worth the price of overturning the whole order of the Universe by introducing human blood into their line. He feared what he had wrought. Deep down he knew it was a great mistake. He also knew that it could not be undone.

"Is there no way to alter what will be? Perhaps, I should kill him now." Zarkon murmured.

"Something would prevent it. He is loved protected by the dark gods." She whispered back.

"He hates me. I can see it in his eyes. I feel it in his heart. He will bring about my death." Zarkon sighed.

"You brought down his wrath yourself. It is his right to seek vengeance for his mother but he may hold his hand. Your death is clouded to me, but if he does bring it then you shouldwill die happy. Your son will be more Wyvern than human, just like you wanted." Haggar walked away. She looked back once and shook her head. She had warned him about the law of unintended consequences when he kicked her out of his bed for the Arussian.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two: The First Meeting

King Alfor and Queen Alanna stood by the landing port waiting for the young prince's arrival. Behind her mother's voluminous skirts was their young daughter Allura, desperate to see her first Drule child. The King and Queen shared her curiosity but were too polite to share that information. Only rarely did a Drule come to Arus and it was usually over an attempt to make a trade agreement. His father had wanted to please King Zarkon. Korrinoth was mineral rich in lazon, a resource that Arus desperately needed in order to advance. Korrinoth, rich in wealthwith resources, was poor in livestock and vegetation. Most foodstuffs were shipped into that cold, forbidding world. It was easily paid for by Korrinoth's great wealth. King Alfor was worried about the arrangement. Drules were known to be quite aggressive when they did not get what they wanted. King Alfor tried not to be judgmental. As a race the Drules were legendary carnivores, and that, as much as anything else, had shaped their culture. Unlike humans, without meat they would starve to death. He often wondered if that was where there legendary fighting prowess came from.

King Alfor had not failed to notice that one of his military officers, Coran, was lurking in the background. Coran, a rising star in the planetary defense department, was wary of the Drule ship's approach.

"Coran, relax. It is an unarmed transport ship." King Alfor boomed.

"…Transporting a Drule Crown Prince." The serious officer quickly added. "A strange cargo, I might add." Coran nervously watched the ship move into a landing position.

"Your concerns have been duly noted." The king replied stiffly. Coran had been quite vocal in his disapproval of this arrangement. "I think Zarkon is hoping that the children will like each other. He had hinted that he would not be against a royal marriage between our two children." King Alfor laughed as he watched Allura's eyes fly open.

"Darling, not in front of her." Queen Alanna shot him a hot stare.

"Relax, Zarkon was not serious. A Drule and a human…Alanna, the thought is preposterous."

"Daddy, why is the prince sleeping?" Allura pointed to the boy was being carried down the ramp. His luggage was unceremoniously being deposited unto a robotic carrier which followed.

King Alfor and Queen Alanna ran up to the guards carrying the child. Behind them, trailed a diplomat and from what King Alfor could tell – some sort of Drule medical professional.

"What happened?" The King asked in Universal, a language spoke by most court officials. One of the Drules looked at the king and .

"Your Majesty, the child took ill from warping. It was his first time handling a space jump. He hit the console. He will recover. Do you have a place that we may lay him down?" The magistrate answered coolly.

"Follow me." Queen Alanna motioned. They walked quickly back to the Castle of Lions and placed the child on a bed in the guest room. Coran followed behind as King Alfor had to excuse himself for other matters.

"We can call a doctor." She offered. The boy had started to moan in his sleep.

"I am Magistrate Borak. Dr. Nerok will attend. He has known the child since his birth." Nerok ordered the magistrate to close the shades in the sunny room.

"It will take him time to adjust to the sunlight in your world. You may want to keep him in a darkened room for most of the first week day." The docor stared directly into the eyes of the Queen. As always, she damped down her utter fascination with the Drules cat like eyes. The doctor's eyes were emerald green – a color she had not seen before on any Drule.

"He is a extremely bright. He has an excellent ear for languages. He is fluent in Universal and he speaks some Arussian. He was well prepared for this visit. His teachers tell us he has an excellent ear for language. I am sure English will also come easily to him." The magistrate said as he walked over to the boy. He brushed away the boy's thick hair with an almost fatherly concern. The doctor gave him a disapproving look.

"He is asleep. He will never know and it is something I have longed to do. In many ways, he is as much mine as Zarkon's." The magistrate murmured to the doctor in Drule.

"Borak, your words are inappropriate. You cannot equal yourself to the Great King. The court is amazed about how long you have kept your head. How do you manage so when you cannot maintain discipline?" The doctor said as he pushed the big man away.

"Nerok, I am a useful man. And as long as I remain useful, the King will let me be as I am. He, more than anyone else, knows I love the boy with all of my heart. I cannot help it. Zarkon was born to be a king and I was born to be a father." The man bristled back.

"And that is why your poor wife is always with child. Korrinoth does not need so many lawyers." The doctor answered back with a snort.

"Do not complain. I always pay your ridiculous bills on time. I am going back to the ship. I have to speak with Zarkon." The magistrate turned to the Queen. "I must depart but I will be in frequent contact with you. If you have any questions about the prince it is best to try to contact me first. The king, being a single father in a caste where the women tend to the emotional issues of their children, tends to be a bit overwhelmed with parenting. He leaves those problems to me." The Queen nodded and the magistrate left.

The doctor He opened the boy's his eye lids and shone a light inside. He seemed satisfied. The Queen noticed that the doctor quickly arranged the hair to hide several bruises on the child's neck.

"Doctor, how long are you staying? You sound like you are leaving soon?" Queen Alanna looked nervously at the boy. She put a hand on his head. It was hot but she did not know if this was the way a Drule normally felt. The Drule carefully considered the regal woman before him. The look of concern worried him. Perhaps it was a bad choice to leave their young prince in the hands of these weak humans. He knew the humans were gentle with their children. That is why he covered the strangulation marks and told her that there had been an accident. The child had obviously shown disrespect to Zarkon and was punished. This was the way with the warrior caste. In his mind, he felt stupid to say otherwise. Yet, his instincts knew better. The humans, he reasoned, already thought them to be savages. But how could they think otherwise? It was the warriors, the very worse traits of his people magnified into one caste, who braved the depths of space to keep the lesser monsters out of Korrinoth's way – and that is who the humans confronted. He did not necessarily mind their opinion of his species. After all, without the fear of a Drule warmasterlord's wrath, the Galactic Alliance would have overrun the Denubian Galaxy by now. The humans lust for lazon was legendary.

"He has a slight fever but leave it be. He has been treated. The deep sleep is part of our healing process. He will recover shortly. The magistrate and I will leave once the prince has awoken. Our presence will only delay his transition into your household." The doctor calmly sat next to the boy while and waited. Allura, a curious child, snuck in.

"I thought he would be bigger. You are a giant. They say the Drules are from a race of giants." Nerok smiled at the pretty little girl. He was surprised how good her Universal was, considering she was a human.. She reached over to touch his fin like ears.

"We vary in size and shape. Those of Korrinoth are especially large." Nerok answered slowly. He was grateful for the company. He was the equivalent to a pediatrician on their world and had a fondness for children.

"Are you part fish?" She giggled. Nerok was amused at her forwardness. Most human were afraid of his people.

"I'm a mammal, like you. But, I will tell you a secret. My father was a merman." He was happy that he had known the human word for such a fantastical creature. He answered with a wink and what was close to a twinkle in his eye. Allura did not know whether to believe him or not. She turned her lips up in a twisted way. She looked over at the boy whose ears, though large, were shaped with a pinnacle on the end.

"His ears are different than yours. He should be larger. Except for his skin, he looks like a pretty elf." Nerok could not contain his boisterous laughter which echoed down the halls. The girl spoke the truth. She reached over to touch his hair which remained her of freshly fallen snow. The doctor stopped her.

"That is sacrilege. Do not touch his hair." He murmured.

"He's special. Unlike me, he has the blood of several races running through his veins. Those ears are a gift from the High Drules, a very ancient race. Eventually,you will see his pointy canines which are a trait of the Wyvern, a rare thing to find these days. You see his hair, only the Empress Jain's descendants can claim that color at birth. It is considered sacred. It is said that those who possess it are loved by the gods. It must have come from his father's side – his grandfather was rumored to be the evil Wyvern wizard prince, Zarka." Nerok leaned over and pushed a strand of the pure white hair silver away from the boy'shis face.

"Does he have cat eyes, like you?" She looked up at the man. She had never seen such green eyes in all her life. They sparkled like jewels.

"Yes. His are yellow. That is the dominant color on Korrinoth." Allura leaned over and touched the boy who moaned.

"I like cats. He is very pretty for a boy." Nerok began to laugh heartily. Queen Alanna ran into the room.

"Quiet, both of you. The boy sleeps." Coran followed behind. His eyes never waivered from the boy. Alanna eyed the doctor suspiciously. She knew those bruises were more than a slight hit to a console. She did not like being lied to. The doctor ignored both of them

"Forgive my loudness. The Princess was just commenting on the prince's beauty. It and is a point of amusement at the court. " Nerok unapologetically looked bristled back at the Queen.

"Forgive me, for I do not understand the humor of it." Nerok shrugged and pushed his patient a little. He looked like he was trying to wake the boy up. A moan escaped the boy's lips. The doctor shook him gently.

Queen Alana called for Allura to come. Nerok put up his hand calling them back over.

"He is about to awake. Princess Allura, I shall tell you a secret about Drules. We fear objects of great beauty for they drive the heart to lust for what it cannot or should not have. We think of them as cursed. The child's very name is the essence of this idea." Nerok whispered as the boy's eyes fluttered open.

"Where am I?" The boy asked in Drule.

"On Arus." Nerok answered back.

"I missed the jump. I was looking forward to that." Nerok smiled. He was a tough little boy. He had been beaten hard, in a healing coma for two standard days, and all he could complain about was missing his first warp. Perhaps, he was not as weak as the court feared.

The young girl rushed over to the bed. The saffron eyes focused on her. He was still drowsy from the medications. His eyes wandered over to the Queen who smiled. The day had been unreal to the child. The last thing he remembered was being in front of his father. It was slowly dawning on him that he was being abandoned again.

"I do not wish to be here. Nerok, take me back home or to my school. I promise I will do better. I will work harder. I will make father proud." Tears filled up in the boy's eyes. Nerok considered the situation. This was a warrior's child.

"Silence, you shame yourself before women. This is Queen Alanna and Princess Allura of Arus." Nerok barked.

"She looks like Althea. I do not want to be among the humans. It will make the others talk even more." The doctor had not counted on the boy being so difficult. He had been more compliant in the past.

"Silence, _shoshi_. You must not speak of this. I have to go now. Make your king proud." The doctor whispered something to the child that seemed to comfort him. "I really must leave. It is better this way. He will learn faster if I am not around. The prince knows what is expected of him." The doctor got up and grabbed his bag.

"Sir, the Magistrate has already boarded your transport. The king wishes to bid you farewell. The guards will escort you." Coran called over to palace guards. He noted that the doctor looked pleased to leave.

Allura was sitting on the bed. She was practically on top of the boy. He didn't seem to mind her closeness. She seemed to be calming him down. He was as curious about her as she was about him. With great excitement she reached over and touched his face. He practically jumped back. He was not used to people touching him. She looked at her hands expecting the light blue to rub off on her.

"Allura, that was rude." Her mother snapped. She paid her no heed. The children were lost in each other, delighted at their differences.

"What's your name?" She asked. The boy still groggy and very thirsty did not immediately answer.

"My name is Allura. What is your name?" The girl demanded an answerboy looked puzzled for a minute.

"My name is Prince Lotor, son of Zarkon, Supreme Warmaster and King of the Ninth Kingdom." He crowed as he puffed out his small chest. Queen Alicia had to cover a smile. He must have been introduced to a human before. The boy certainly said it with bravado. Coran was not so amused.

The children were playing a game on the bed. He was pointing to things. Allura was telling him the word for it. The doctor did not lie. He had an amazing ear, Alanna thought, as he easily repeated back the words. Coran was not so impressed. Allura, unfortunately, was not doing so well with the Drule words he offered back.

Coran called the Queen outside.

"My Drule is not good but the child indicated that you resembled his mother. You, my lady, do not look like a Drule." Coran gave a slight bow. "There were some odd rumors a few years back…"

"Which were denied by Zarkon." She cut off Coran. "The geneticists say such a mating would have been impossible so I take the king at his word. Other things give me more concern. Someone has beaten that child. Did you not see the marks on his face and neck?." Queen Alanna offered back.

"He is used to beatings. That is their way." Coran realized how cold he sounded when the words tumbled out. He was not focusing on the well being of the child but the words that were said.

"It is cruel. He is only a few years older than Allura." The Queen said as she sucked in her breath.

"Do not let his youth deceive you. He is the son of a Drule king. He has already seen more horror than you or I could ever imagine and you know what I have been through." Coran touched Queen Alanna's arm. "This is not a human child, hell, Iit isn't even a Drule one. As I have pointed out to the king, this is a Drule prince. Your Majesty, we better go back in there. It would not be a good idea to leave the children alone for too long." Queen Alanna and Coran found the children sitting close together on the bed. Allura was practically in Lotor's lap. He tentatively was reaching out to touch her, his hand trembling. He had his finger on her mouth. He was carefully tracing the bottom lip trying to teach Allura the Drule words for her Arussian ones. It was hopeless.

"Mouth"." She giggled.

"Pretty mouth." He laughed back. Queen Alanna, with a look of surprise, pulled her daughter away. For a moment, she caught a gleam in the young boy's eyes. She saw a flash of anger directed at her as she pulled the young princess away.

"Allura is my friend." He protested. The Queen ignored him.

"Give back Allura." He snapped as she ushered the girl into the hallway. A low guttural growl escaped his lips.

"It is time for sleep, Prince Lotor. You will see her in the morning." Coran answered in his atrocious Drule. The angry boy got the message and threw his head back. He crossed his arms across his chest. Coran would have laughed at the scene save for the look of determination in the boy's eyes that belied his years.

"Allura is my friend. She is mine." Lotor grumbled defiantly.

"Not while I'm alive." Coran muttered under his breath as he left the obviously annoyed child.

Allura was being just as difficult in the hallway. Alanna practically was dragging the princess away. Queen Alanna knew, due to her station, that Allura had few playmates. Alanna had been excited about this arrangement. She had hoped the prince would become like a brother to Allura. He was an excellent solution to a difficult problem. Arussian social hierarchy forbade her to play with the children of commoners. What few relatives she had her age were living in other cities. She would only see them on holidays. This antiquated social custom had isolated the young princess from other children. She was too sheltered and protected for her own good. And from the look of the boy, he also suffered from that lonliness peculiar to royals. Queen Alana knew she was going to have her hands full with those two.

Coran had different thoughts racing through his mind. He had been against the hosting of the child since the topic had been broached earlier that summer. The king was sure that it would help the now growing trade relations between the two neighboring planets. Coran, like most of his military officers, feared the Drules. The warrior caste, which dominated their military, was known for their cruelty and excesses. He had personally experienced it himself which made the king think he was prejudiced towards the Drules. The king was not incorrect on this point.

Where Queen Alanna saw a fragile, hurt child on that bed; Coran saw a Drule prince – bred for one purpose – conquest and domination. He wondered why the father would send him to a peaceful world rather than further his own education in the martial arts that he would need to survive the brutality of their own caste system. A weak prince stood no chance. Did his father presume him to be so strong that a year would not matter? Coran doubted this. The child was very small for a Drule. Perhaps there was another prince that Coran did not know about – birthed by a concubine that Zarkon favored. Maybe he wanted the boy to be weak so that the other would take him in the Arena. The security officer could not fathom a single reason that the Drule wanted his only known son on Arus.

Lotor awoke. He found his luggage had been placed in the room. He ran to the windows and drew the blinds. He fell back as the light streamed into the room. He pulled the blind tight and then after a few moments he picked up the edge – his eyes trying desperately to adjust to the brightness of the morning sky.

He turned around to find Queen Alanna standing at the door.

"Good morning, Prince Lotor." She smiled. He looked her over carefully. He took in her scent. She had doused herself with a perfume made of a flower he did not know. He was listening to her heartbeat. She was in a peaceful state. He listened to the pattern of the words. He took them for a traditional greeting. He responded in kind.

"Good morning, Queen Alanna. He answered as he watched her face for a response. He saw none that would indicate whether he had answered her correctly. It had been such a long time since anyone had spoken Arussian around him that he had to fight to recall the words.

"Right words." The Queen nodded. His face brightened up.

"Come with me. " The Queen motioned. She brought him to the sink and showed him how to turn on the faucets and where the toiletries were. The right side of his face was a deep purple. He seemed to understand what the items were for. She helped him unpack some of his clothes and ready himself for the day. The only time he struggled was when she tried to help him with his long tangle of hair. She started to braid it but he pulled her hand away.

"Do not touch. The gods will be angry. I belong to them." He carefully combed it back and tied it. She motioned him to follow her.

"Bring back Allura." His determined voice repeated the phrase again and again as she followed him to breakfast. Allura was already at the table. His smile widened as he went to take a seat next to here. He stood politely by his chair and pulled Allura out of her seat rather roughly. Allura smacked him hard. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close. Queen Alanna heard a guttural growl escape the boy's throat.

"No. Queen Alanna is here. Allura is being inapprpriate." The princess and the Queen stared at the boy trying to figure out what was wrong as she separated the children. Only the stern Nanny in the corner figured it out. She laughed. Lotor shot her a harsh look. Servants were not supposed to laugh at royals.

"The prince has good manners. He wants Her Majesty to sit first." Queen Alana sat down. Lotor, with a look of self-satisfaction, pulled out the chair for Allura. Queen Alanna did not like that he has been rough with Allura but she reasoned that he did not have the words yet. She would have to find a language teacher for him.

He made a circle in the air around all the food.

"It is breakfast." Queen Alanna responded. His curious eyes were focused on everything before him. He looked ravenous. He repeated the word and then pointed to each dish until a name was given. He proudly recited all of them. Feeding him proved to be a bit more difficult as there was little meat at the table. He settled for some bacon and eggs and fish. There was some interest in the fruit – but he looked quite unsatisfied with the meal.

"You were hurt. I am taking you to see a doctor." The young queen continued. She pointed to his bruises. He gave her a puzzled look.

"No doctor. Nerok says Lotor is good." The boy shook his head. The Queen called for Coran to reason with the child. Like any other child, the thought of needles and pain ran through the boy's brain.

Coran came in and walked over to the boy.

"You are going to the doctor. You will not give the Queen trouble." He calmly said in Drule. He leaned over and grabbed Lotor by his shoulders and pulled him close. The boy's eyes narrowed. Allura and the Queen heard a soft growl emminate from him. For a moment, he looked more like a feral cat than a little boy.

"Coran, unhand him." Queen Alanna reproached the officer. Coran ignored the Queen's pleas. Lotor's face turned to astonishment as he tried to turn to look at the Queen. He did not know the words but he was sure that the woman had yelled at the man. He was looking at Coran waiting for a response. No woman would ever speak like that at home, especially when another male was punishing a child. He let the young prince go.

"Queen Althea wrong. Coran …" The boy did know the words to finish. He looked at Coran expectantly. Coran knew that he had just lost the first battle with this child. He would always view him as a weak human.

"The Queen's name is Alanna. And you are wrong for questioning her." Coran's dislike of the child was growing by the minute. Lotor looked at the Queen. He rolled his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Prince Lotor will go to doctor. Coran will come." Queen Alanna smiled and pulled Lotor close. "See Coran. He is quite reasonable when you are gentle with him. He wants you to come. I think he likes you."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Coran responded. Was he the only one that heard the impertinence in the child's voice. He did not ask Coran to come, he ordered him to go. The child wanted a translator – that was all.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three: The Doctor Visit

It did not take long to get to the hospital. It was considered one of the finest research facilities on Arus. They were greeted by Dr. McClusky, the head of pediatrics. Allura ran up and gave him a hug. The doctor greeted her but his eyes were fixated on the Drule. Like most civilians, he had never seen a Drule in person – let alone a child.

The doctor examined the boy. It was uneventful enough. The boy seemed quite use to the proddings of medical personnel. He even lay down in the doctor's scanning equipment. He understood that he had to be still. Finally, after a good hour it was over and Dr. McClusky told Lotor to get dressed. He had been surprised at the child's command of Universal which far exceeded his own

"Aren't you going to give him a lollipop?" Allura reminded the doctor. He shook his head no.

"Why not? Lotor don't you want a lollipop? Lotor shook his head yes because he thought that was the right answer. He had no idea what a lollipop was but he was sure that Allura seemed anxious that he get one.

"He doesn't have the taste buds for it. He can barely taste sugar. He would be happier with a steak." The doctor turned to the Queen. "He requires a lot more protein than a human child does." The doctor was writing notes on his clipboard. He took one last look at the neck and shook his head.

"Someone has very large hands." He murmured as he examined the bruises on the child's neck.

Doctor McClusky called over the Queen and Coran. They went into his office while Allura tried to entice Lotor with the lollipop. They both looked up as the door shut. Bored they returned to the thing at hand. He had no interest in the strange sticky thing though he liked the way the word sounded.

"I'm surprised he is still alive. This child has been severely abused. It was hard to find a major bone that has not been broken. I won't even mention the internal scarring." The doctor put up the scans revealing all the damage.

"Are you sure about the injuries? Maybe their anatomy is just different from ours. There are no scars on his body." Queen Alanna had been hoping the abuse was not as severe as she imagined.

"I am as sure as I can be. These were severe injuries and it looks like some of them probably required surgery to repair the damage. Our little boy blue is one tough cookie." McClusky pointed to several areas that showed adhesions.

"Drules are incredible healers. The boy is fine." Coran chimed in. Queen Alanna was starting to get very angry at this officer. His concern for the child's well being was nonexistant.

"Coran, why do you hate him so much?" Queen Alanna lashed out.

"Your Majesty, I don't personally hate him. I don't trust him either. This abuse that has you all concerned is how the Drules raise their warmasters. He needs to be the hardest thing out there if he is going to make it to adulthood. The boy was born with a target on his back. In a few years he will be a killing machine." Coran walked out of the room. He walked past Lotor. Lotor offered him the used lollipop which Coran looked at with a hint of disgust. Lotor assumed that it was directed against the confection and not himself, but he had his doubts. They were both on each other's radars.

"Coran does not like lollipops either." Lotor looked down at candy and popped it into Allura's mouth. She seemed content to enjoy it as the Queen continued her conversation with the doctor.

"I would like to run a DNA analysis on him. You know he has white hair. It means a hell of a lot to those Drules. They say the possessor is linked to their legendary Empress Jain, a Wyvern. The Wyverns are practically extinct since the Colonial Wars; it is rare to even find one among the Drule worlds. They were as smart as hell and were rumored to have all sorts of unusual psi abilities. He must have one hell of a background because he does not even look like a Korronnite. What the Galactic Alliance wouldn't give for a snippet of him in their DNA banks." The doctor mused as he looked at the tube of blood.

"He's our guest. He is not a science experiment." Queen Alanna was disgusted with her staff's treatment of her guest. Coran's was outright hostile to this child and a royal physician was salivating over his genetic find.

"You know I'm a exobiologist by training. That's why I agreed to come here to begin with - to get closer to them. Please, the Drules ability to intermix among themselves is just mind boggling. I mean look at him – I bet you the average Drule could not make heads or tails out of that boy. For instance, look at those ears. He definitely has one of the ancient Drule races in him. Think about it, Your Highness, the genetics of the oldest sentient species known to exist are coded in that child. They are on the other side of the galaxy so we never get a look at them. Come on Alanna. It will be our dirty little secret. Who knows – it may come in useful one day." The Queen swallowed. She could hear the excited voices chattering through the door.

"Agreed. But you keep it quiet. I don't need the Galactic Alliance involved. We have remained neutral for years and the king wants to keep it that way." She answered hesitantly. Her stomach was sickened a bit. She was not used to all of this interplanetary stress. Her husband usually handled these affairs.

"Sticks and stones and puppy dog tails – let's see what this little boy boy is made of." The doctor chuckled in English as he called for a technician to come up. He pulled out the needles and swabs and called for the smiling boy. The boy stop smiling when he saw the assortment of sample gathering materials on the table. He gave the Queen an odd look as the doctor found his vein. Lotor opened his mouth and the swab went in, gingerly scrapping his cheek cells. Doctors had done this to him before - he knew a DNA test when he saw one - but his father's scientists had a purpose. They mostly wanted ascertain if he was a healthy, and more importantly, a fertile hybrid. His father was determined that there would be a direct descendant to the throne he had worked so hard to take. He wondered why the Arussians were doing this. He considered it inappropriate at best. He wondered what they would say to him when he found out that he was part human. More importantly, he wondered what his father would think. The man had gone to great lengths making sure that the stories of Lotor's mother being human were debunked. Outside of Korrinoth, and the ruling class of warmasters, it was not a well known fact. Oddly enough, the humans never did talk about it. In the end, he was sorry about that because he would have liked to meet his family on Arus. They were out there, high up in the mountains. He wanted to know what sort of people could produce such a woman as his mother.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four: The Devil is in the Details

Queen Alanna went to the hospital by herself. Dr. McClusky wanted her to come in person. She could sense the urgency and the excitement in his voice. The message did not state the reason for the call but she presumed that it had to do with their "dirty little secret". Lotor's genetic tests were back in. She was surprised to find two other people waiting with the doctor. They were in the uniforms of the Galactic Alliance. She was anything but pleased.

"Dr McClusky, you promised not to share the information." Queen Alanna protested.

"Your Majesty, I didn't. Blame the lab technician who ran the tests. I figured it was going to come back a mish mash of Drule but the results were more eye grabbing than that. Dr. McClusky offered a seat to the queen and then slumped down in the chair across from her. He officers then seated themselves. The doctor could see that the Queen Alanna was disappointed in him.

"Queen Alanna, I'm Dr. Sewell from the Galaxy Alliance. This is Lt. Brown from our intelligence service. The lab technician was right to contact us as the sample was extremely fascinating on a number of accounts. The child is half human. To be more specific, he is half Arussian. He is the first known Drule-human hybrid on record. Dr. McClusky assures us that he knows of no other case between your people and them."

"Zarkon claims him as his son. Are you saying that his mother was an Arussian?" Alanna answered back. The scientist from the Galactic Alliance nodded. "It makes little sense. We have only had contact with the Korrinnites during the past five years." Queen Alanna answered thoughtfully.

"The markers indicate the mother is from the Castor region." Queen Alicia looked thoughtful.

'The Castorites are primarily merchants. They have been known to travel deep into space. They have had run ins with the Drules that have not been covered by treaty." He looked at the other Galactic Officer who was pouring through his notes.

"It still does not totally explain his existence. Drules have 24 chromosomes. Meiotic overdrive aside, should he even exist?" McClusky interrupted.

"McClusky, he is part Wyvern…anything is possible. That fact alone, that any of them are out there and still breeding with Drules, is highly disturbing. We are looking at the possible merging of our species. And I'm afraid, with their traits being more dominant ours would be wiped out. Hopefully, the normal biological rules apply and he is just an infertile hybrid." Sewell seemed lost in his speculation.

"We are talking about one child here. He may just be some aberration. Maybe your sample was compromised." Queen Alanna did not like the look into the officer's face. Until now, Arus had carefully kept out of the long cold war between the Galactic Alliance and the Drules. King Alfor was the first to point out that the humans had left the Milky Way to colonize the Denubian Galaxy and not the other way around. The Drules, an aggressive hodge podge to begin with, were not pleased with the arrival of the interlopers in their particular neighborhood. The humans had first found it easy to colonize as the Drules fought constantly among themselves. But the arrival of humans changed all of that, the First Kingdom under the religious fanatic Empress Jain consolidated the various warlike species into a unified front called the Drule Supremacy. For over a thousand years, the two dominant species had fought tooth and nail for the Denubian Galaxy's most precious resource, lazon. Without lazon, the humans would have to revert back to their crude nuclear power sources. The Drules would have preferred it that way.

King Alfor, as most of the Arussian monarchs, was more aware of the pressures that faced the Drule Empire than the Galactic Alliance was. The Galactic Alliance was too far away from the center to understand the Drules as well as the Arussians did. They existed in a human centric world, while Arus existed in a more Drule leaning one. King Alfor understood their desire to stay close to home. Even though they knew the Milky Way existed, and could have made their way across the expanse centuries before the humans had made the long journey, they had shown no desire to leave the relative safety of their galaxy. The thought to venture out had never even crossed their minds. King Alfor had thought most of it was due to their low reproduction rate. Drules rarely produced more than two children. No one knew why because they were certainly capable of more as was evidenced by the occasional large family and the broods maintained by their warmasters, but all in all, they seemed reluctant to change their reproduction habits to keep up with the humans. The population of Earth and all her colonies surpassed that of the Drules by 20:1. The Drules viewed humans as over bloated consumers who had come in to exhaust their resources.

The fight over the lazon resources was the first major source of contention between the two races; slavery was the next. The slavery issue had always been a big one between the humans and Drules as the species drew closer to each other. Drules were not against enslaving their own kind and did so frequently. As the human starting inhabiting worlds closer to the border territories the Drules thought nothing against taking human ones either when the opportunity presented itself. Yet, no one heard of a Drule-human child being born. But then again, one rarely ever heard what happened in the Drule Empire anyway. Save for the rare prisoner who returned after one of the border wars – or the ambitious trader who was confined to the imperial port warehouses– few had any inkling what happened on a Drule world. For all the Galactic Alliance knew there could be whole cities of Drule-human hybrids running around. It helped keep the population calm by claiming that there were no hybrids as visions of Drules raping women to produce children was a common theme in horror movies and the less than respectable media outlets.

"Your Majesty, the threat is there. I require the child for some more tests." Sewell stood up in a manner more pleading than threatening.

"Doctor you must be insane. May I remind you that the child we are talking about is the Crown Prince of Korrinoth, son of Zarkon, the Demon King? Shall you or I make the call to ask his father permission? Or perhaps you would like to book passage on the next transport and ask the King himself? Putting that aside, he is also my invited guest. You, sir, are not. Get the hell off my world and take your friend with you." Queen Alanna shot a look at Dr. McClusky for bringing these men as she left.

Queen Alanna called Coran to her offices. He was not pleased that Galactic Alliance officer were on Arus. He informed her Majesty that they had gotten in under a scientific research treaty that was rarely put into force. He was as anxious to get them to leave as she was. Even the signature of an Alliance ship would trigger reconnaissance forces from Korrinoth skirting the Arussian air space. Queen Alanna confided everything regarding the DNA tests to Coran. He shook his head and cursed her stupidity to himself. The woman was always too eager to please her friends at court. He reminded her that the child was more trouble than he was worth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five: Summer

The weeks passed quickly. Lotor's Arussian, and even his English which was similar to Arussian, had come along remarkably well and a translator, or a language tutor's services, was hardly required anymore. His almost immediate fluency did not surprise Coran as there must have been a human mother who had spoken to the boy, something the Queen refused to let him share with his teachers who seemed to be in awe of the child's brilliance. Coran did have to admit that the child was brighter than your average human one. Maybe even brilliant.

In fact, he had far surpassed his tutors' expectations in all of the subjects he had demanded. For the most part, except for his obsession with the kingdom's fighter craft, he had been very academic in his pursuits His interests revolved around science, math and history. He seemed to be obsessed with Earth's most successful conquerors from Alexander on down to Venturas. He spent hours pouring over maps. He even sought out Coran, much to the officer's dismay.

King Alfor, while an excellent pilot, did not seem very competent when it came to explaining large scale military campaigns. He had been taught by the tutors at his school that in general warmasters should not rule. They also taught that magistrates should not fight, which Lotor thought was a little self-serving. Perhaps this was also true for humans. Alfor took him more as a Magistrate King which made Lotor fear him even more. They were craftier than the warmasters. If they were displeased with an underling they just seemed to disappear. Eventually, that fear dissipated. King Alfor was quite kind to his servants. No one seemed in danger of disappearing. Lotor did not know what to make of this.

The human civilians seemed to be content at being ruled by a softer hand than the Drules which Lotor noted with interest. Some Drules had also wished a more benign way but it went against the inherent nature of their kind in general. They were a predatory species and there was little room for the weak. The strong survived and the strongest ruled them. The Law, given by their Great Empress, ruled them all so that they were no longer animals clawing against each other. The strongest still fought their way to the top but there were rules that had to be adhered to and obeyed before one could advance. Violate the Law and you were an outcast to all.

Say what you will about his human guardians but they did listen to children. This pleased Lotor. Even Coran, whom he sensed had an incredible dislike for him, would sit down with him as he poured over the maps and the details of the human campaigns. At times, he noticed Coran was studying him. Coran asked him why he liked the ancient battles the best since he saw little use in them when one was now fighting with modern technology. The boy smiled. He looked at the military man with great interest as he answered.

"Coran, what would you like me study? Campaigns are easy. Someone attacks, someone defends."

There is a whole world of literature and philosophies to explore." Coran watched those piercing eyes looking straight into his soul and wondered what the boy behind them was thinking. What Coran did not know was the Drules had a lot of problem interpreting human eyes. When he first came they looked like large liquid circles. As the months had worn on he became rather astute at reading human faces. His father would one day be delighted by the skill. It had always been so hard to interrogate humans. Few of his people understood them well enough. Unfortunately the humans, being physically weaker, usually died before a thorough interrogation was completed. No one could read their damn faces. Now, Lotor could. He could teach the others what he had learned. This made him satisfied.

"Things that do not interest me." The boy's eyes never veered from the pad. "It is bad enough I have to suffer them in school." Lotor paused and looked up at the officer.

"Coran, you have fought the Drules." The boy did not require his answer. He was just stating a fact.

"I was an officer in the Galactic Alliance before I came to Arus." Coran answered stiffly.

"Where did you fight?" The boy pushed on.

"Kiras" Coran looked away.

"The Fourth Kingdom took Kiras. Warmaster Soltron was in command. She took many prisoners. Were you a prisoner?" Lotor looked up expectantly. Coran nodded.

"That is how you know so much about us." Lotor looked back at his maps.

"I have met her. She is a horrid looking woman. I have a feeling her husband must be blind for how else could anyone beg her bed?" Coran almost smiled at that remark. The child, in his odd way, was trying to sympathize with him. What small good feeling was easily dispelled. "Coran, you are smart for a human. You would have made an excellent Drule." It was an image that Coran shuddered at.

"And why, Prince Lotor, do you know so much about us? You might fool your tutors but you haven't fooled me. Your Arussian has become flawless. You know more about Earth history than the average university student. Why have you given us such attention?" Coran raised an eyebrow. Lotor leaned back and smiled.

"You are correct in this. It is thought that every Drule should have a hobby to keep the mind entertained, mine is humanity. Sarrinoth has an excellent central library." The prince leaned back.

"It's an odd hobby for a child." Coran replied.

"Is it any stranger than your fascination with me. You watch me all the time." Lotor fixed his amber eyes on Coran.

"I'm a security officer, that is my job. Do all Drule children speak like you?" Coran gave him a wry smile.

"Drule children are not encouraged to speak at all," Lotor said with a bit of a giggle. "It all depends what schools you attend. I went to one that focused on persuasive speaking. Most of our top magistrates send their children there." Lotor answered hesitantly.

"I thought warmasters raise their own children." Coran's interest was now peaked.

"They usually do. Father thought it best that I have a different experience." Lotor answered. Coran saw the child biting his lower lip. Coran could tell he had entered a territory that the child was uncomfortable with. It was the most the child had ever shared with him and he decided to tone down the questions.

"How has a child your age acquired so much knowledge?" Coran eyed him suspiciously. "You are quite impressive. Your tutors think you are a prodigy or an android."

"I am neither. It is just the product of loneliness." Lotor gave him a funny smile. "I just did not have any friends at school. I slept only five of your hours a day so that leaves a lot of time to read and think. Borak always pushes me to do my best. He is absolutely a brilliant man and when I grow up I hope to be just like him."

"A boy usually wants to be like his father." Coran answered looking for some reaction in those yellow eyes.

"My father will accept nothing less than perfection in a son. I assure you, I will never live up to such an exacting standard. I hope when I am older that I can accept people for who they are, not what I want them to be. This is a hard thing for a king to do." Lotor looked down on the map and sighed. "It is much easier to conquer than to rule."

"Why don't you have friends?" Coran asked, the first time with any sympathy in his voice for the child.

"Look at me. Anyone can tell that I am not a true Korronnite. When Drules are not looking down their noses at humans, they look down on the other races of Drule. In me, there is something for everyone to insult. On top of that, a Crown Prince can have no friends. Eventually, one of them will try to take my throne and I will either have to kill this person or die to keep what is mine. What's the point in trusting anyone? Now, can we get back to the problem at hand." Lotor was pointing to his computer pad which illuminated the continent of Europe during the first part of the 20th century. :How did your people solve the problem of trench warfare?"

'The blitzkrieg. It was perfected during the next major war. I do not remember all the details of how it was employed." Coran muttered. "The war you are studying basically ended out of sheer exhaustion."

"So will the war between our peoples if no solution is found. In the end, you have the numbers. The Drules need a blitzkrieg." Coran shot Lotor an odd look.

"The side that developed that tactic lost the next war." Coran warned.

"Good to know." Lotor mumbled back. "As always, Coran, you are the most helpful person to me here." A baffled Coran shook his head and walked away. Drule or not, this was one of the strangest children he had ever met.

Lotor was happy that he puzzled the humans. Most tried desperately to read his face and came up empty. Allura, however, had been the exception since the clever girl was always under his feet. She barely left him time to do his studies. At time, though he adored her, he had to hide from her affections. He was amused. Little sister had a crush on him. He was not used to girls. All the females he knew were slaves or noblewomen. He had no need or desire to interact with either group.

The tutors seemed pleased with the boy. Their only complaints were that the boy was arrogant and ill tempered at times. He was known to throw a glass or a pencil when he became frustrated with a problem. Queen Alanna had not seen this behavior up close. He was generally quite polite with her. He had even made the reluctant Allura read to him. Many a day, the Queen found her daughter sitting in his lap land reading to him stories usually revolving princesses and princes. Lotor would chide her about her human ideas of chivalry and romance. These ideas were foreign to him. Queen Alanna also noticed that, save for the doctor, Lotor had never let anyone touch him but Allura and even that was done warily.

Lotor was mesmerized by Allura. She was the happiest person he had ever met. She did have her moments. She was stubborn and always wanted to be with others. She never understood his need to be alone and would barge into his rooms unannounced. While he preferred his long walks alone in the forest and his books; she wanted to be surrounded by people and used to try to drag him along. She was good at drawing the solitary prince out of his shell but at times he longed for the company of the his own kind who would understand his need for meditation and solitude. Allura was a whirlwind.

Coran appreciated one thing about Drules. They could be patient. Lotor had explained to him that this trait on the surface seemed at odds with their hot tempers, but it was not. According to their scientists it had developed side by side , aiding them in their ability to hunt. The quick change in temperament was needed to complete the kill. Coran thought of the prince's words as he watched the prince with their beloved princess.

Others were impressed with the boy's patience with her when others were worn out; but all Coran thought about was the kill. He had to admit the boy calmed her down. She, on the other hand, made him play. It was a long forgotten skill he seemed hesitant to remember. He often, with an air of desperation, would give in and bring her little fantasies to life. Queen Alanna treasured these scenes. She thought it was adorable when the boy referred to her as "little sister". He was the perfect big brother Allura never had.

Lotor had planned a surprise to celebrate Allura's seventh birthday. He had bribed a castle carpenter to build her a tree house in the orchard. He had given him a bag full of credits and a piece of lazon. The carpenter was thrilled with his good luck as the prince had paid him a small fortune to build this small thing. He was careful to do a good job with it as he did not want the young prince complaining to Queen Alanna that he had been had. It was with great pleasure that the prince took Allura to the tree house. He worried as she climbed the ladder that led up to the platform. Allura as usual showed no fear.

Allura was thrilled with her new playhouse. Inside, he had waiting for her a human tradition that his mother had always insisted on having when he turned another cycle, though he really did not like cakes. He had convinced cook to make a small one for Allura. He sung the traditional song as she blew out the candles. He tried to get her to tell him her wish so he could grant it by trying to deny her the presents he had hoarded in front of him. His father, though lacking in affection, had granted Lotor a generous allowance and he showered her with gifts of dolls, toys and even a sapphire necklace to match her eyes. Allura, as usual, would not budge and he ended up giving her the huge pile he had amassed anyway.

It was a simple room. It had a small couch and a table. There was a basket with a pulley outside. To the children the tree house was a castle, a fort and a spaceship. It became their hiding place when the pressure of the Castle became too much to bear. It was the secret place to escape to when dignitaries arrived or when an unloved tutor was searching for them. Lotor was entranced with his princess. She was the purest thing he had ever met. She was perfection. She viewed him as a noble prince to her rescue. He was her knight in shining armor.

She brought him through the forests surrounding her Castle. With delight, she showed him all of her favorite places that she went to escape the eyes of her Nanny who always seemed to be five steps behind the children. Lotor, with an animal's sense of territory, committed all of them to memory.

She took him to a waterfall where they would swim and cool off under the cascades. They would strip down to their underwear and tee shirt and sit for a long time under its spray. He taught her to dive into the swirling green and blue pool below. He loved the way that her eyes seemed to sparkle as she came up in the water. Nowhere on his world was there such a magical place as that waterfall..

Eventually, Nanny would find them. The woman, he thought, would have been an excellent tracker for his father's hunters.

Nanny would yell at him for encouraging Allura's dives. He, however, would argue that her form was improving. She would chide the princess for swimming so immodestly. He would tell her that humans were too prudish. She would lecture the boy who, at times, would have a hard time deciphering her thick words. He would make up his own dialogue in his head and laugh. This only served to infuriate the woman more.

When they got back to the Castle she would refuse to give him any sweets thinking that this punishment was horrible to him. He did not understand this human love of these things called desserts but he would play the game. He would pretend to sulk and beg of her until she gave in. Even the harsh Nanny would give in to his odd charm and Allura wish she knew how he did it. He would flatter her hair, her eyes and her cooking skills. He could make Nanny laugh. Soon, Nanny would pile his plate high commenting on how gangly and thin the boy was. His huge hands reminded her of a large pup's paws. She would tell him that he needed to go live in the mountains where they would feed him properly and build up his muscles. Allura protested that Nanny always gave him more than her. Nanny answered that it was her job to make him big and strong so he got the extra servings. He even occasionally let her give him a pat on the head. Lotor was glad that the abrasive woman she did not know that on his world it was an act of deep submission. Lotor did not know why he allowed her to touch him, as he hated it, but he had to admit to himself that the woman intimidated him at times. When Nanny turned her back he would pile what he could on Allura's plate or hide it in a napkin. It was another one of their games.

Queen Alanna was amused at their adventures. Nanny was not. Nanny warned them that the boy was too interested in the girl. They should keep them apart or they would have a Drule prince for a son-in-law. King Alfor and Queen Alanna laughed at the very suggestion. He was a child who was playing with spaceships, wooden swords and braiding flowers in their daughter's hair. They were the best of friends. Coran would occasionally be present when these games were going on. He would shake his head and walk out of the room. Whatever feelings he had about the young Drule he had learned to keep to himself.

Lotor had fallen in love with Arus. He feared the day that his father would call him home. Occasionally, he thought to himself, that this had been his mother's world and it was his right to be here. She had once seen Aras's flowers, its trees, its blue oceans and yellow deserts. She had been brought to the dark world of his father where there was only clouded sunlight for but a few hours each day. She wondered what she must have thought as she overlooked the black ocean that lapped against the Castle – rather than the sapphire blue ones that bathed this planet. It must have been too much to bear. He wished he had more memories of her before she died. He was young and he had not learned to place them properly yet. The aftermath, which was crystal clear, had been horrible and fearful days.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six: Zarkon and Althea

The end had started as it had begun – brought forth by the lust of a Drule king. Lust, for a Drule, came in many shades. They had over fifty words to discuss this particular emotion as it crossed the Drule male's minds as many times a day. There were many flavors of this delicious feeling. It could be over anything – food, sex, power and even vengeance. At its most intense, a state of ecstasy could be felt, that was as satisfying as it was dangerous. This type of lust had one name for it felt the same regardless of its cause. It was the bloodlust, and nothing in heaven or hell, could stop a Drule who was possessed by it save death itself. It was a feared thing which most Drules hoped to never experience. Thankfully, few did. There was no place to put it. Zarkon, the Demon King, had experienced true bloodlust only twice. Once when he first laid eyes of Althea Carris, and then, once again when he ended her life. Both times, it had been the most exquisite thing he had ever experienced. And yes, just as the sages warned, it had devastated his soul.

One could pour through the court records and interview witnesses but when it came down to it her death was brought on over a small thing, her arrogance. She, a harem slave, had born the King his only son. He, in order to silence the court, had wished her to become his wife. Warmasters, generally did not take a wife, for it invoked certain parts of the Law that did not fit their temperament. It would mean dismissing their harems which came with its own difficulties. They preferred their overflowing harems brimming with sons that would become future warmaster themselves or die trying.

Zarkon had not been raised in the tradition of his colleagues. He was the bastard child of a warmaster's daughter – supposedly fathered by a Wyvern prince. Many doubted the girl's tale after she had returned home with the small boy in tow. He had grown up barely tolerated in his grandfather's harem, and when he came of age, he was consigned to a school designed for lowmen – the lowliest in the army's ranks. It was disgraceful and the insult festered within him. This feeling of being denied what should have been his, by birthright, would lead to the death of his king.

Zarkon had earned his harem, not through the position of caste, but through blood and lazon. Many had thought his harem was cursed by the witch that adored him and that is why it lacked for children, but in truth, it was his complicated genetics. Miscarriages ruled the day in his harem. It fit well into the witch's plans, her being a full blooded Wyvern, as she had hoped to produce the king's heirs. Yet, even with her magic potions, she fared no better in his bed. Then Althea came and all hopes of that were ended. Within the month, she had taken with their first child and gave birth nine months later to a beautiful daughter. In truth, the Great King wanted a Queen and not a bought pleasure slave, another warmaster's daughter to whom he would owe allegiance, or a spoil of war to produce his children. With the help of the witch, he had procured the woman he had seen in his dreams.

For many years, Althea had been but a dream to him. The king had prayed to the dark gods of his father's people to bring the mother of his heir to him for he had never seen a human before. Instead, they sent the Wyvern witch who warmed his bed. It was the witch who finally relented and found the woman. And lo, after some witchcraft was performed, she stood in front of his throne. A computer malfunction brought the small transport to the wrong coordinates. That was all it took to bring the woman child to him.

Althea had been fierce. His men were covered with deep scratches and bruises when they threw her to the ground. She had demanded that he free her and the people that were with her. Her family could pay ransom. They came from a rich merchant family from Arus. She had been dressed in a flowing gown that showed off her assets to her advantage. Perhaps, he lewdly thought, she used the veiled promise of her body to encourage her deals. The blond hair, he noted, once in a neat bun, was in disarray. They formed gold cascading tendrils framing that perfect face. She licked her lips which were painted blood red. He felt the lust that had only one name rise inside of him.

All the king could think of was taking her to his bed and devouring her. It was as if he was drowning in desire. He had more beautiful women in his harem, but they mattered no more. He knew, from the moments he laid eyes on her, what she was, an object of cursed beauty. He shuddered at the thought as he had never been infected with that peculiar infatuation that his people were so prone to. His heart raced wildly and he thought he would die as he sat on his throne. He had thought he was stronger than this, invincible. He swallowed. He had seen her in his dreams. She would be the mother of his heir. In fact, much to the horror of the Court, the first Drule word he spoke to her was _lotor._ He said it like it was a soft prayer. It was the first Drule word she had ever heard.

He walked down from his high throne and scooped her up. She screamed and fought but it was to no avail. He carried her to his private chambers and set her down. In what little of the human tongue he knew he begged her bed. His soul was devastated when she had refused his entreaties. Could she not see that they were fated by the gods? He came to her with the greatest affection and she called him a vile monster. He touched her and she backed away in fear. He would never harm her. He ached for her. He did what any self respecting Drule warmaster would do if a woman refused to willingly take them as a lover. He blackmailed her. He brought her back to his court where her shipmates were still being displayed. He begged her bed in public and with the next refusal he slit the throat of her crewmember with a knife. He stood there splattered with blood but she did not flinch. He was at a lost at what to do. He could have forced her to accept his affections but he knew that she was more than just recreation. He grabbed another man which brought out a more intense reaction in her. Zarkon heard her cry out for him to stop. Tearfully, she agreed to go with him. He dragged her back to his chambers. He was still slick with blood when he claimed his prize.

Zarkon shocked the court by installing her in his quarters as she was a human. She had kept her promise. She slept in his bed every night. He gave her jewels, silks and words of love but mostly they were met with was an icy stare. Even, after she had borne him his children, she never softened for long. Her rejection galled him. He became a cruel lover even though he desperately wanted her to love him. He still did small things to curry her favor – he was much kinder to those who begged his mercy. Then, only then, would she give him a loving look or a small touch that would just serve to fuel his passion. On the rare occasion that she gave him her affection eagerly it was only to beg a huge favor. It was then that he was in rapture and could deny her nothing. His Court, shocked at the way she shamed their monarch, hated her. The spoke rumors and whispers against her. But it did not matter, he believed that however she felt about him she would keep her word. She would stay with him. She was Arussian and they did not lie.

Later on, after the birth of Lotor, he had demanded the she become his queen. He did not want to elevate Lotor to Crown Prince while his mother was a slave. It was inappropriate. He could not just free her without a wedding vow – she would leave him. A thought he could not bear. Still, he pretended that she was a wife and no longer a slave. As customary, he dismissed his harem and granted the girls to his unmarried officers. He publicly vowed that he would touch no other. He made all of his subjects call her Queen Althea even though she had shamed him by refusing to marry him. In all this he despaired. There was nothing he could do as the law forbade a master to force a sacred religious vow on a slave. It would anger the gods themselves.

Althea enjoyed refusing his pleas to make her his queen. She did not know why her refusal hurt him so, most Drule warlords would have been happy with a slave refusing to be elevated, but he was forlorn in her rejection. She had heard the servants repeat the same word that the Great King had said when he first laid eyes on her. At first, she had feared this horrible warlord. Althea had not always been a good person. She had watched in horror as he had slain her shipmate in front of her when she refused his advances, and he was about to kill Hiro, her lover, before she relented. He sent the unfortunate man, along with the other survivors, off to his lazon mines. Althea never saw them again and the few times she asked about them she was met with stony glares.

She was prideful, the daughter of a noble family, and was lost in her own fear of being violated by the monster. By the time she had regretted that decision one of them lay dead. She watched the king has he slay her navigator, realizing that any hopes of getting home had died with the young man. Not once, did a flicker of anything but pure enjoyment cross his face as the man screamed out for his, or was it her, mercy. She would never forgive him for that. As the years progressed, and the Great King became more and more entangled with his obsession over her; she stopped fearing him. It was this arrogance that led to her fall.

At first, Althea was terrified of Zarkon and her situation. She was a shrewd and clever thing. She was quite aware of the harem politics that her arrival triggered. One did not have to speak Drule to read the jealousy in the other women's faces. If it was not for the his amazing ability of Garoth, the harem master, to keep the girls in line she was sure she would have been maimed or killed by the other women who resented the King's growing affection for her. Soon it became an almost exclusive arrangement. Only when he was very angry at her did he go down into those chambers. Soon, the King asked for no other in his bed. Garoth was almost relieved when the King installed her into his private rooms. Althea had enchanted the Great King which meant that Garoth no longer had to peruse the pleasure markets to find the exotic beauties the King had craved. He had other clients to attend with a less extensive list of desires.

As for Althea she liked the silks, the gold, the jewels and the power. The power she had over his servants, and more important, the Great King. At times, the arrangement pleased her.

He frequently came to woo her with soft words. Usually she answered him not at all or with words of steel. They just served to arouse him. Rarely, did she not find him lurking somewhere in her bedroom hoping that she would let him take her without a look of disgust or a protest. She came up with her own cruel game sure he would not strike her. Did Leanarra not resemble her mother more than his father? How could he, Zarkon the Demon King, have fathered such beautiful child on her? Perhaps, she would hint, she had taken a lover to her bed. Perhaps, she would muse, a beautiful High Drule had fathered her daughter, and not the lowly soldier who had risen not by nobility but by blood. She would goad him with her acid tongue but they meant little. He would just take her again. It took many years to bring about another but another child, a son, was growing in her womb. This time, the witch told him, it was the child he had been seeking.

Arussians were not liars by nature but they could fabricate doubt when needed. She never outright stated that she had been with another since he had taken her. These words, made to hurt him most of all, would make him roar back with laughter. He knew they were his. As lovely as she was, and for truth he had never seen a woman so perfect, only a fool would go after his woman in secret. Or for that matter, he would continue, no one would dare take what his. He was, after all, Zarkon, the Demon King. His sword had taken a whole army. His men were fueled by his ardor for battle. He had even bedded the Ice Queen and brought her to pleasure; even though she hated him for it. Her womb, he would throw back, could not deny him its finest jewels. She was his, he would murmur, as he slid his claws down her body and himself unto her. She belonged totally to him. The children were his too. He needed no test to prove otherwise. Anyone, who was foolish to try to take what was his, he would menacingly whisper, would surely die under his own hand.

They were well into the second decade of their game and it should have continued for many more. The King would have been content to live his life in this exquisite misery, and as time went on, Althea enjoyed her place by his side. The week King Dharlock of the Tenth Kingdom had come to visit had seemed to Althea no different than any other. Zarkon had annoyed her over some trivial thing, and she refused his bed when he came for reconciliation. She was not going to be so forgiving this time. She wanted to make the Demon King grovel on his knees and beg her bed. Something no servant had ever seen but in moments of weakness he had. It was only then that she came willingly and would love him back. It was then that he would be in ecstasy. But it was a thing he would rarely do as he could barely face himself in the morning. It was always the same after these nights of passion. The next morning, he would awake and find her in the crumpled sheets. He would move to take her again, still basking in the memory of the night, and she would push him away and tell him how his body had disgusted her. She had only given in to get whatever he had promised her the night before.

He was many things but a rapist he was not. She would always find a reason to quarrel with him. Even though they shared the same bed, he had never really forced her. Usually, if she protested, he let her be. Other times, he could not control himself. She knew that particular look and would relent. She would just lie there motionless until he had finished. She would turn her face away so she did not have to look at him. If he was upset by this, he kept it to himself.

She would beg him to take his harem back as his passion for her was relentless. The very thought angered him terribly. He would threaten her. At the most, he would respond by taking her rougher than need be only if to make her cry out and feel something as he moved in her. But usually the only sounds she made were her taunts. Althea was quite capable of taking the abuse she handed out. He had to give her that. She barely flinched as he pounded into her. Most harem girls would have been begging for mercy.

Dharlock had come during one of their more terrible fights. As usual, the woman of the court had been spreading lies about her. She wanted to make a big splash in the media to counter the blows. She wanted her king to build her a grand art museum in Sarrinoth: one to rival the imperial one on Neraku. It would be named after her. They would even hear about it as far away as Arus. The expense would be enormous. It would be the cost of a large campaign. He balked at it. He had no interest in art. He had better things to spend his treasury on. She refused to even to speak to him.

That night, she had locked him out of their rooms. Usually this amused him as he easily could have broken down the doors if he wanted. The carpenters had started to keep a room of extra ones to be installed. Sometimes he would go away and sleep in a guest suite until her mood softened. It had always been a part of their game.

He called her to come out. They had important guests. There were things that needed to be discussed, urgent matters that required her input. But she knew it was all a trick. Behind that door he would be standing there with a gift that would allow him to pleasure himself on her. She would not sell out for a trinket, she wanted that museum. She could wait. She had more patience than him. The thought of making him empty out his coffers to appease her amused the Ice Queen.

Seven nights he came and seven nights she refused his gentle persuasions to join them. Leanarra, he told her, had entertained his guest with music, song and recitation. She would be so proud to see her little girl all grown up.

On the eighth night, he summoned her to court with his official seal. She could not refuse a state request. She knew he would send his guards if she ignored him. They did not like her. They would be rough and that would just give her husband joy to watch her submission. He was probably seeing off his important guests and wanted to show off his beautiful wife. He loved it when the other Drules looked at her lustfully and their wives glared at her with hate in their eyes. It aroused him to no end that other kings, and even the Emperor himself, had wanted to bed his most precious possession. Well, at least, she thought, she may get what she wanted tonight as she made her way into the Great Hall. She was expecting a grand reception. It was just him and another man. They had met before. She was well aware of who his guest was. The man had no lust for her in his eyes. It was all for Leanarra. She cried in protest but her king had ignored her. If she had married him she could have stopped this. He would have had no right without her consent. She begged Zarkon to stop this but he refused. For once, he enjoyed having the upper hand. She watched Leanarra, led onto a transport by her father's troops and a man old enough to be her father and then some.

"Perhaps, had I been sharing a bed with you this week then I would have had much less time to spend with Dharlok. You know how distracting I find you. But alas, you were cold to my advances. He made a very convincing argument why our two kingdoms should be joined in an alliance. He has great affection for our daughter." Zarkon coolly said. He had not appreciated his treatment this week. He adored Leanarra He knew in the end that this was a good move for both him and her for she was too fragile to handle a harsh man. These were not decisions that a human's input was required for. Althea would never truly understand their way of life. It had almost been better that he she had ignored him this week. The gods must have fated it because if she had begged him not to, had been willing in his bed, he would have relented. He always did.

"I saw his affection that both his eyes and his manhood were offering. She is just a girl. She is not ready for his bed. You are all monsters." She smashed her tiny fists into her chest.

He promised not to touch her until her 18th year. It is the traditional of the Tenth Kingdom for him to bring her back to his court until then. He will decide if they are compatible. But, I think they already are. Leanarra seemed to like him. He spoke to her with soft words. He will show her his affections, and she, unlike you might learn to appreciate the love of a Drule king. As for me, at least until they are wed, have one more vote on the council and one less enemy to consider." Zarkon said with an odd smile.

"He worries you?" Althea asked with concern. She had never seen Zarkon worry about anyone attacking him. "He shouldn't. You have said yourself he comes from a kingdom ruled by magistrates. He is not a true warmaster as you are." He smiled. It was rare that she ever gave him a compliment.

"He is far worse than a warmaster. He is a Magistrate. He knows the Law. All Drules are ruled by the Law." Zarkon seemed lost in his own thoughts. He wondered if he had made the right decision. His instincts tended to guide him right.

"You sent my Leanarra off to live with that old man. I will not forgive you. Just like me, she will live a life without love."

This started their cold war. It would last a year. She refused to bed him. Still, he came to sleep next to her and tell awful lies. He told her that one day Leanarra would give birth and he would make one of her sons Crown Prince. Her children, after all, would be ¾ Drule unlike the puny son she bore him. The court would forgive his transgression. He would declare her son unfit and send him to the desert. It was a cruel game and had he really knew Althea, he would have stopped. She was not a woman to sit back idly and watch a child die. She was not one of those weak, submissive women favored by the warmasters – she was an Arussian noblewoman by birth and would fight to the death to save her own blood. The paranoia for her son's life was only increased by the tea that Haggar brought her. It had been hoped it would calm her nerves. Instead, it fueled her nightmares where she would see Zarkon take her child's life.

Zarkon had just wanted reconciliation. He did not know that this game he played with Althea would go this far. He was angry. He used words because he could not bring himself to use fists. It would have been kinder. Althea, again and again, refused to grant him what was his due and the tensions between them only increased.

Had she spoke to him in kindness: he would have told her that he looked forward to raising their son. It would be his greatest honor, more gratifying than all of his victories combined, to train their son to sword. Already, he had been impressed with the boy's intelligence and dexterity. He had already commissioned the finest armory to construct the child's first swords. He would be small, but he could hold his own with the right discipline and training. He wanted to have a part in the vision he had – the one he knew in his heart to be true. The one he would have whispered to her on the nights had she trusted him. They, he would have told her, had created a beautiful son.

But no, she had never once come to him as a wife or a lover. She had refused his bed for a whole cycle since Leanarra left. She was Althea. If anything, it was her arrogance that doomed them all.

In truth, Althea's rage was all for naught. Leanarra, if anything, was a Drule through and through or maybe she was a more compromising version of Althea. She had quickly learned that she would be able to take advantage of this lust crazed man that had begged her hand. Already, he gave her anything he wanted. He spent most of his free time with her only seeking quick respites in his harem. She was satisfied when the servants told her that he went in and left quickly. He was only going in there to relieve his lust. He had fathered few children with these women, and they could be dealt with accordingly when the time came. Leanarra was more than satisfied at the arrangement. She was actually developing quite a fondness for the man. It had been an excellent match.

What went on between Althea and Haggar no one would ever know. This was something never revealed to either Zarkon or Lotor for either would have struck the witch down. Until both king's dying days they had assumed another had fallen under Althea's spell as many men had lusted for her. Several warmasters had called Zarkon to the Arena to try to take his woman but they all lay dead. They had assumed this was only one more afraid to face Zarkon's wrath. Leanarra never knew that the dashing warmaster that had conspired to take her and her son away to Arus was really Haggar in disguise. The mysterious stranger who had wheedled his way into Zarkon's court would rescue her if she would agree to beg his bed. The love did not interest her but the ship did. She had promised the love he sought after their escape to which he willingly agreed. She did not think it odd that the warmaster would go outside the law for her. Zarkon had been right about that one thing – Althea did not understand the Law. Few humans did. Had she, she would have seen that this was all some cruel hoax meant to destroy her. A warmaster would never just steal another's woman, he would have fought for her in the Arena. There was no honor in stealing from another of their kind.

One never took anything from a warmaster as the punishment was death. Althea had failed to learn that lesson in court though the scenario had played out before. Like a thief in the middle of the night, Althea tried to steal what was Zarkon's. He was fueled with the monstrous anger of his kind, the one that was supposed to be contained through discipline at all costs. Perhaps it was fueled by her total rejection of him, but whatever the cause she had unleashed it.

Zarkon was consumed with the bloodlust much to the horror of his companions. He felt his heart quicken to the bursting point when it could no longer get the oxygen it needed. They should have killed him where he stood, for the Law demanded it, but their hatred of their Queen was too much to bear. They let his bloodlust run unchecked and the hunters egged him on. He was in ecstasy as he felt her throat give way and then she lay lifeless in his arms. In his one moment of clarity he had sent the boy away. Lotor howled as he was carried off into the night sensing the wild commotion around him and his mother's growing fear. Lotor would not stop until a man closed his mouth with his hand. Lotor passed the witch who had a great smile on her face. He was only seven years old. He had only just learned to store memories and this one was muddied with his own emotions.

Lotor would think of that night often as he grew older. He had understood his father's actions, they were more Wyvern than Drule but that mattered not, to do any other thing might have lost him his Crown. She had humiliated him for the last time. The woman had driven him to this madness. He may have done the same thing if his wife had ever betrayed him. His wife knew better, for he was a far worse monster than his father ever was. He would not have even put up with the refusal of his bed. He would not have feared the gods' anger since they served him and not the other way around. Instead, he was troubled about what Althea had done.

Her very death changed all he was ever going to be of that he was sure. It was then that he was brought to court. He was surrounded by his father's warriors. Cruelty was a way of life. And like anything else, that you experience day in and day out, it became normal. So normal, that one hardly took notice to it anymore. Not when it happened to someone else or when it happened to you. He learned early on that only the strong survived.

With great joy, he was sent off to school. But there too, he could get no relief in the halls of the ancient academy. More cruelties came and this time at the hands of strangers. It was Borak who had held his hand and wiped his tears through these years but Lotor wondered if it had been because of the man's strong sense of duty. Charak taught him the sword, and the discipline of pain, but there was no one to teach him the discipline of the soul. He had no father anymore. He and Zarkon barely spoke after her death.

Then he came to Arus. Though he knew humans were capable of great cruelty, even more so than his people if their history as taught by his masters were true, it was not so in King Alfor's court. He had yet to see a servant cringe in terror or be executed for a minor infraction. He had not seen officers beaten too a bloody pulp for failure in battle, but then, he had not seen evidence of them being at war. Instead of a mood of terror, happiness echoed through these halls. Happiness, he learned, was rather an infectious mood. He let it pass through him and filed it back in his head. He would take it out and examine it in moments of meditation. He had not once felt anyone, including himself, experience this emotion. He was saddened at that since it was a common one and it gave the humans great pleasure to feel it. It made their auras shine. He was even more delighted that one day, when he and Allura were looking at clouds in the fields, he had experienced for the first time. It washed over him and bathed his wounds. For that particular moment, he was glad that human blood ran through his veins.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven: Autumn

Lotor's love of summer turned into an enchantment for the autumn. It was agreed that since the next Academy session did not start for another 138 standard days. He could stay a bit longer. Borak was confused at the boy's excited reaction as he had promised him his first flight trainer if he returned. Borak had said the gift was due to his placement in his exams. The young prince, much to the dismay of the court, had placed first in the city of Sarrinoth. Borak knew that all the boy had talked about and obsessed over at the Magistrate School was flying as so wrangled the gift out of his father. He had been lucky, Zarkon had been in the middle of negotiations with the Langorthians and had hardly notice the papers in front of him. It had been an incredibly expensive gift and now Borak sadly cancelled the order.

The boy seemed content to stay there. Haggar continued to approve of the boy's continued human education so the magisrtate relented. Zarkon usually valued the witch's advice over his in these matters. But truthfully, Borak had wanted the boy back at the Castle. He had looked forward to the Lotor coming home. He had missed their nightly conversations. But then, knowing that Zarkon and the boy were always at odds, he had to agree with the witch. Arus, was the best place for him to be for now.

Lotor was in no rush to leave Arus. For one, the temperature of the air was much cooler during this season and was more suited to his metabolism. He basked in the coolness of the night. The trees had turned to glorious hues of red, golden, purple and yellow. Nowhere on his world was such a tapestry to be found. He watched the food on the table give way from melons and berries to various root vegetables and squashes. Some of these he had even seen on his world. Warm soups began to appear – along with certain deserts that made the humans ooh and awe. They especially seemed to like apples turned into everything – be it a beverage, a pastry of some sort or even shoved into the bowels of a bird. The scent of apples and cinnamon was everywhere in the Castle these days. The food did not sate his appetite but it was pleasant to look at and smell.

As usual, when Allura went hunting for him, he was to be found in a tree. He claimed he liked it up high because one could see your enemies. Allura could never find his elusive foes. She secretly thought he preferred the shades of the trees as they cut the brightness of the sunlight. He was not one to admit any weakness.

His studies were winding down, He had lost that odd singsing accent he had spoken Arussian in when he first came, He still plowed himself into the history of Earther's in general and their literature, but it was done at a more liesurely rate. He had even developed a tendency to correct Allura's grammar which gave her mother extreme pleasure. He was every bit the scholar they were promised. He had already exceeded his tutors in the mathematical arts. The Queen had thought to summon a graduate student from the University but the Drules said it was not necessary. The boy would fill in the blanks at home. It was best to work on the various aspects of human culture. After all, the prince was there to learn about their neighbors and not differential equations.

As the season wore on, Lotor noticed that Allura was getting more and more excited. She started to go one about a holiday called Halloween. Lotor looked it up. It was a pagan thing adopted by some of the Earthers. It involved a lot of candy and some mischief, two of Allura's favorite pastimes. The humans, he mused, really liked to eat sweet things.

"You must come to the ball next week. It won't be like the others you shy from. We will go trick or treating." Lotor rolled his eyes.

"I do not want to go. Humans always look at me strangely. And as for the candy, it is just you being greedy for what Nanny will not give you. You want me to give you mine." He went back to his books, but as usual she persisted.

"I will be a princess and you will be my knight." Allura spun around the room. "You will spin me around the room.

"You are already a princess. Why would you dress up as one?" Lotor looked at her quizzically. Humans baffled him at times.

"I will be a fairy tale princess. I'll let you kiss me." Lotor shook his head. Allura was grinning from ear to ear.

"And why would I want to do that?" He had crossed his arms and gave her a look that he had learned from Nanny. It was quite disapproving.

"Because we are going to get married one day. I heard my parents talking about it when you arrived. Your father wants to arrange a marriage between us." Allura threw her hair back. "Then I can make you do whatever I want."

"Really? I can think of four princesses off the top of my head that would be a far better match. The ideas that you humans come up with." He sighed and patted her on the head as if she was a small child. "I will be a warmaster when I grow up and have no need of a wife. I would just throw you in a harem. You would serve me night and day like a proper companion to a warrior. Perhaps, if you prove worthy, you would bear my heirs. But I think not, you are too small and far too demanding of me." He broke out into a deep laugh that had even surprised Allura. The idea was beyond preposterous to him.

"Little sister, your head is always in the clouds. You should be studying. It is not time for play. You need to learn discipline." Lotor frowned at her.

"You are too serious these days. Promise me you will come." Allura pleaded. He looked into those cerulean eyes and groaned.

"When can I resist you? Fine, just leave me in peace." Lotor threw up his hands and shoved her through the door. He opened up his book glad that the maddening girl was off to torture someone else.

It had been an uneventful week. Lotor had made his way down to the breakfast table where Allura and the Queen were waiting with big smiles. Lotor reasoned that they were excited about the grand ball that would fill the Castle with people tonight. He was loathe to go but he promised. He sat down to eat when the Queen made an announcement.

"Borak called this morning. He had wonderful news. Your sister Leanarra has given birth to twin boys. You are an uncle." Queen Alanna swore she saw his face turn to an ashen gray.

"Really, how interesting. I did not know Leanarra was expecting." Lotor said quietly as he quickly excused himself. The table was silent. It was obvious that this news was not taken happily. It was Allura who eventually found him. He was lying on the ground looking at the clouds.

Wordless, she lay down next to him.

"We have clouds on Korrinoth. But they are all in shades of black and grey. They are full of lightening and thunder. " He whispered.

"Lightening storms can be very beautiful." She answered back.

"But they are never relaxing. Your clouds are like everything on Arus, more dream than reality. Just like you, Princess Allura of Arus." He sighed.

"Why did you leave? Aren't you happy about the babies. Are babies a bad thing on Korrinoth? Is that why Drules have so few children?" She asked.

"No. Drules usually have great affection for their children. You should see Magistrate Borak's villa, he has over ten of them. It's worse than a harem because they have the run of the place." Lotor shrugged. "Making a baby is just a complicated thing. Much easier for you humans," Allura looked at him, not really understanding his words.

"So, why are you sad?" He looked over at her and for the first time his eyes looked rather human. Tears were welling up in them.

"My father hates me. I am now expendable. He will replace them with me. " The tears were starting to flow. He was ashamed to let Allura see how his heart ached but there was no way to stop them.

"Stop this foolish talk. Why would your father hate you?" She reached over to smooth his hair. At first he was going to stop her, years of training taught him it was inappropriate, but he relented.

"He blames me for my mother's death. Althea is gone because she tried to take me away from him." A small voice answered back.

"Then the rumors are true? The Demon King killed his Queen." Lotor nodded slowly.

"The story even made it to Arus, how impressive." Lotor looked up.

"I have heard many things about her, They called her the Ice Queen of Korrinoth. They say she was beautiful. But you have never mentioned her. What was she like?" Allura carefully wiped away his tears.

"My mother was not like your mother. She was a wicked thing." Lotor said with a devilish smirk that came from nowhere.

"I do not think you would have liked her. She was arrogant and selfish in her way. She could be kind when it suited her. Vengeful when she felt wronged. Althea was magnificent to behold and a force to be reckoned with. By the gods, I miss her.." After he said that, what little control he still possessed, was smashed into smithereens. Heart wrenching sobs came pouring out of him. It was here, on the planet of her birth, that he finally mourned his mother. After her death, he had not been even allowed to say her name. Fearful of his father's wrath, he had kept it all inside. The witch was right, self-preservation was hard wired into him. But here, so far away, he had nothing to fear. He cried and he howled to no one. He cursed his gods and his father. He wept openly for all he had suffered. He wept for Althea and he wept for himself. He even wept for Zarkon, though he did not know why.

At first Allura was scared at the rawness of what she saw. She scooted away from him. After a few minutes, she came close again and put an arm around him. He felt her hands trying to comfort him. They rubbed his back, stroking his long hair in the process. That alone should have made him pull away but instead he drew closer to her.

Looking back, when he recalled that day, he was amazed that such a small thing could bear the weight of his sorrow. And in a moment of quiet he felt something strange. An emotion swept over him and it caused him great distress. It was not his and he had not wanted to claim it – but it had shoved its way through, demanding that he taste its essence. It caused him to moan in its intensity. He cursed Allura for feeling it for it was the worse thing he had ever encountered and it made him wretch. Allura pulled away as he ran to empty his stomach. It took everything to force it into a place. It was months before he could attach a name to it because it did not exist on Korrinoth. He had read about it in human literature but he had not had a context to place it in so it had just remained a word that described an emotional state that had no meaning to him. It was as alien as she was. It was called pity and he hated her for feeling it. He must have looked insane to her. And as suddenly as the intensity of the moment came, it stopped. Through sheer force of will, he had shoved into into the recesses of his soul. He was Lotor, the Crown Prince of Doom, and no one – not a mere slip of a girl, not some pissant nephews, not even Zarkon the Demon King would make him acknowledge that he was less than what he was. Allura could take her pity elsewhere. He was a Drule prince, who would eventually become a warmaster. On that day, he would be pitied by none and feared by all.

He looked at the setting sun and told her that they had to leave. The party would begin soon. They had royal duties to perform. Even as they walked away, he knew that he had left what ever shed of his childhood behind. Leanarra had two sons to replace him. And they, unlike him, did not bear his father's animosity. He was already thinking of ways to dispose of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight: The First Kill

Lotor dreaded the party that was to come. He did not think the day could get worse. His father had not one replacement for him, but two. He had already humiliated himself before Allura. Lotor was miserable when he was handed a costume picked out by Allura. He looked at the flimsy material and cringed. At home, the warriors wore real armor. He would be laughed at if his father's men saw him in this ridiculous outfit. Relax; he told himself, there was no one here to see the girl's debasement of his social position.

Allura came in. She was the last person he wanted to see – but she was filled with excitement. It was as if she had forgotten what took place between them that afternoon. If a Drule had been with him they would have been in meditation contemplating what they had seen: but here she was acting like nothing had happened. She had a dark blue dress with a voluminous skirt. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore a tiara with a red stone. Her mother had let her put on some lip gloss. Her lips shined and her eyes were sparkling. She looked like a fragile doll. Lotor smiled and clapped as she spun around for him. Perhaps, she was correct; laughter and play were the best ways to fight the melancholy of his soul.

"You look handsome." She crooned as she placed a stupid helmet on his head. He groaned as she smoothed his hair back. He grabbed her hand and instinctively pulled away. She frowned as he had let her touch it earlier. It was softer than silk and she wanted to pet him. He frowned and held unto her hands and pulled her close.

"You made a deal. You are supposed to kiss me." Lotor teased.

"It is not proper. We are not married." Allura's voice was filled with challenge but she was smiling. He sensed her playfulness and gave her a small smirk.

"We can pretend we are at my father's court. We will stand before the Great King and I will give you a bracelet that would bind you to me. I would finish the ceremony." He leaned over. She giggled and closed her eyes. He lightly kissed her on the lips. It tickled.

"I have kissed Allura. Allura is mine." He whispered to her as he let her go. The kiss should have meant nothing. It was no more than a childish game between them. It was the most innocent kiss that the prince would ever give. It demanded nothing and expected nothing in return. It should have been nothing but instead it made his whole world crash around him. Lotor felt Allura's heart flutter with exquisite happiness. He savored this emotion, having never experienced anything so grand, and placed it before it could dissipate. He was floating in its simple purity. It had been Allura's and he had stolen it. The memory of that fleeting moment would devastate his soul for the rest of his days.

"I guess that makes you my boyfriend now." She laughed causing the spell to break.

"I assure you a boyfriend is a very human concept." He drew himself away. He was trembling. He needed to meditate but there was no time for that.

He had always hated court events. A child of his age should have been in the back rooms of a harem but his father had none to speak of. More than not, the servants brought him to them. Many times, as the guests became more inebriated, he had been forgotten. He had seen horrible things. Even filed away, the feelings that the images fostered were dangerous. The drunkenness of his father's warriors often led to cruelty even if the evening was supposed to be jovial in nature. Some nameless slave would be executed for spilling a drink or refusing to bed an officer. And no matter what the reason for the celebration, more unfortunates were tossed into the Arena too be hacked to death by a robeast. The worse part of it all, much to Lotor's disgust, was at times the scenes had excited him. The smell of fear, if not invoking the lust that he had seen on the face of the men, had whetted his appetite for the kill. These were the feelings that he feared the most. It was a part of him that was growing stronger every day. He wondered if this mad lust for these sensations would become a permanent fixture of his being.

Yet, her she was. She lived a life unknown to harsh words or fists. She still believed in shining knights and fairy tale princesses. Where, with a promise of a kiss, a beast could be transformed into a handsome prince. It was ironic that the humans celebrated a holiday of fearsome evil creatures kept at bay with a piece of candy. On his world, the beasts required more powerful deterrents, such as a lazon whip. It was as if Arus was making mockery of the reality that Korrinoth lived. He understood why his father wanted to conquer such a world that made amusement out of his. There was nothing remotely comical about monsters, he thought, as he looked in the mirror. He lived among them. In all truth, he wagered, if he survived to maturity, he would eventually be molded into the worst sort. The idea pleased him as that man would not be the sobbing child he saw in the meadow that day.

The evening had started out pleasant enough. He had begged candy of these humans and was content that he had collected a large share for Allura. He had gotten used to the stares of the other party guests as he made his way through the crowded halls. He was already plotting how to keep their haul from her Nanny who would be searching all of his hiding places for the haul. He had a wonderful image of the rotund woman sitting on the pile of candy and stuffing their haul into her mouth which brought a smile to his lips. He could already see the young princess begging him for his share of the sweets.

Allura brought him to a courtyard where many of the children played in the dark. The lights from the Castle cast faint shadows around the giggling children who were chasing each other. The coolness of the breeze was refreshing. Not far away, he could smell burnt wood and hear a bonfire crackling. His senses were luxuriating in the joy of the moment. Until, someone yanked his hair very hard. He turned around expecting it to be Allura, all ready planning to admonish her and threatening to withhold his loot. She was the only one who he had even allowed to touch his royal person and even that he did begrudgingly. It was not Allura.

"Yeah, it's real." The boy snarled to his companions. Lotor's arm lunged up to smack the hand away. He was surrounded by four boys dressed in Galactic Alliance costumes. He put them in their mid teens.

"Allura, is this the Drule pet that your father keeps locked up?" Allura was pushing against the boy who stood firm. He was the tallest and the biggest in the group. He was close to six measures and overweight. He was a known bully. She had asked her father not to invite him but her father pointed out that he belonged to a powerful family. King Alfor would not disappoint the Duke by leaving their family off the list. It was rare that children were allowed to court events.

"Philos, leave him be." She yelled into his face. The boy did not back down.

"So Drule, I hear your father swam upstream to meet your mother." The boy hissed as he swatted away the boy's helmet. Lotor stood motionless. Allura cringed as the boys grew closer. Two grabbed his arms and pulled them back while another came from behind and pulled his hair, forcing his head back Allura, along with the other children, stood there shocked. Lotor did not even struggle though he seemed uncomfortable. "My father told me that she refused to fuck his ugly ass anymore and that is why he killed her. Is that true?" Lotor said nothing, but Allura could see the rage building up in him. His eyes got the faintest tinge of orange when he was really mad and they were well beyond that shade.

"Maybe he can't speak Arussian yet." Philos said to his cohorts. "Look how pretty he is….for a Drule. Are we even sure that he is a boy? " Philos whispered in his ear as he landed the first blow into Lotor's stomach. Lotor looked at the boy as if deciding what to do. Allura watched him bite his lower lip a sure sign that he was thinking it through. "See, everyone. Drules aren't as tough as people say. This one doesn't even fight back. My father keeps telling the king that they are weak and we should join the Galactic Alliance." Philos finished off his pronouncement by spitting in Lotor's face.

Lotor stared at the much older boy who stood a full head taller than Lotor. Lotor sucked back in the air and shook off what pain he felt. The blow had knocked the wind out of him but he had felt far worse.

"Philos, I will only say this once. I am an imperial prince of the Drule Supremacy and this is an act of both sacrilege and suicide. Unhand me and I will show you and your friends mercy." Lotor said with a measured calm. Philos blinked, unsure of what to do as his peers cheered him on. By then, some adult voices were heard approaching but it was too late to stop the unfolding events. Allura stood behind Philos trying to drag him away. She looked at Lotor. He was no longer there, replaced by a more savage creature that had started to struggle a bit. The creature growled and bared its sharp canines. Lotor commanded Allura to move away with a level of seriousness that frightened her. His hair had become unraveled and flew madly about as the others restrained him.

"Can you believe this idiot? What could this pipsquek do to me?" Philos picked up his chin. Hisnails digging deep enough thas tAllura saw pinpricks of blood. "Prince Lotor, son of the Great King Zarkon, say that humans are better than Drules." Lotor responded with a growl.

The next hit went straight into Lotor's nose and she was sure she heard him howl in pain. His eyes seemed to be deepening in color, trying desperately to match the blood that poured down his face. They glittered in the moonlight, full of rage. It was the last time Philos touched him. In the darkness, she heard their screams as the boys fell. It happened so fast that none could stop the carnage. She heard the snap of bones and the cries for mercy. She heard Philos beg only to be followed by a sick crunching sound. Some of the boys ran, but he easily caught them in the dark. The next screams were not from the children but from the adults who looked on. Philos lie there like a broken doll. The Drule stood over him with blood gushing from his face. His eyes were now a shade of dark orange, turning redder by the moment as the crowd gathered close. Allura heard a woman scream as she ran to the lifeless body of her son. His neck had been snapped and his head just hung to the side.

Other children ran to their parents. The floodlights soon came on as the adults looked in horror at the crumbled mess before them. The three surviving boys were all screaming in excruciating pain or passed out. Legs and arms were in unnatural positions. Bones protruded through ripped flesh, jagged and uneven. And there was blood, small streams intermingling and joining into pools. Lotor heard the sirens in the background as he was escorted into a back room. He did not understand why the adults looked at him in horror. These were noble's sons. They had attacked first. Certainly a few broken bones should not matter much? There were four of them. The odds had been in their favor. It had not been his fault that they were so badly trained. His only consolation was the he had heard Allura coming to his defense, albeit through her sobs. He had scared her, and for that, he felt some remorse.

Coran appeared out of nowhere and hurried the boy away from the chaotic scene. In the distance, Lotor could already hear the wail of ambulances coming to fetch the dead and injured. Coran had shoved him in a chair. The man had his back against the wall and his arms crossed. Lotor looked at him and sensed the self-satisfaction of one who felt as if they had been proven correct. Lotor was not looking at the man. He was wondering if his actions had been inappropriate or excessive. This would require a great deal meditation. He sat and tried to place all the emotions of the day.

Unfortunately, they had not been sorted out. In the morning, he had been filled with fear over the announcement of Zarkon's grandsons. In the afternoon, he had been overwhelmed by his grief and loneliness. That evening, he savored the exquisite pleasure of the small kiss and the joy in Allura's face as they collected the sweets. He winced when remembering the humiliation of these weak human children touching his hair; his connection to the greatest Drule Empress that ever reigned. They then added insults by comparing his brilliant father to a mindless animal. His mother was talked of as if she was just his father's whore whom the Great King had casually disposed of when she was of no use to him anymore.

Lotor had shown great restraint. He had not touched a single one of them. It was they that had landed the first blow on Lotor, a prince of the Drule Supremacy and the son of the Demon King. They were madmen to do so and he had given them a chance to rethink their actions. He had offered them mercy as a good prince should. He had let the foolish human land the first blow. He took it well without complaint; after all, it had felt nothing like a warmaster's blow. They, who should be bowing down to their Drule superiors, dared to mar his flesh. They had answered his attack with only sobs and no threats of vengeance – how could they ever keep the Drules at bay. They deserved to be overrun by his kind. No, his actions were not inappropriate. Even killing all of them would not have been deemed excessive.

"I was worried about the Drule in you, but it seems that it is the Wyvern that calls to your soul. What is it like to call the bloodlust at will? Or is that just another misguided myth? The Korronnites would destroy you if they had seen that." Coran hissed. The man leaned in and he felt a hard pressure on his shoulders. He wondered if he could take Coran if he had to, the man would be more of a challenge than an unprepared teenager but now his blood was boiling.

"Sir, my people would know the difference between what was appropriate and what was bloodlust; if it was bloodlust they would have all died. I offered him a truce, he refused." Lotor answered in a cool, confident voice that shook Coran.

"You overestimate your people. They would be scared of what you just did, that was no warmaster's training. You just killed someone. Doesn't this even register in your thick skull? Do you not understand what you did was wrong?" Coran grabbed his chin and forced him to look up into his smoldering eyes. The Duke of Deryon, the father of the dead youth, would be all over King Alfor for this.

"We have different definitions for your concepts of right and wrong. Philos's death does mean something to me. It was my first sentient kill and it was totally unsatisfying." Lotor answered with a quiet certainty.

"He wasn't going to kill you." Coran muttered back.

"Really, on Korrinoth we would have called that an assassination attempt. Children kill children there." Lotor retorted.

"I am well aware of what goes on in Drule society but we are not on Korrinoth and Drule customs do not apply here." Coran stiffly answered back. "You will pay for what you did. Think about it, Prince Lotor, you have caused the first interspecies homicide on Arus"

"How much lazon do you think will it will cost for this to go away? " Lotor said with a smile.

"Lazon…a child is dead. What kind of people do you think we are?" Coran grabbed the boy and shook him. He raised a hand to strike the child when he heard voices coming loser.

"You are humans. Not that we have established that, it only remains to set a price. Without exception, every human has their price. The parents will settle. And honestly, how much is a dead child worth? Even I, a crown prince, am easily replaced." Lotor answered innocently enough.

Lotor heard parents yelling outside demanding justice for their fallen children. The door opened and King Alfor and Queen Alanna entered. His face brightened when the queen asked him to look at her. She would understand. Instead he was met by a stony glare. He felt her bafflement and despair and cringed. King Alfor's countenance was no better. He had displeased the king which would anger his father. No matter if his actions were appropriate or not, he would be made to feel discipline. He did what he had always done in the face of an angry king.

Lotor fell to his knees and made submission. Coran's eyes grew wide in astonishment knowing well the meaning of such an act for a Drule royal. This act, however, was not comprehended by the king and queen. Lotor looked up and saw no change in their demeanor. He had humbled himself for no gain and this angered him.

"Lotor, the boys were severely injured and Philos is dead." Queen Alanna finally said. Her voice was shaking and her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Your Highness, their actions were inappropriate. They attacked me with no cause. I showed great discipline but they continued their assault." Lotor carefully responded. Coran was smiling at the boy He was well aware of the meaning behind the young prince's words. He could have tried to interpret the prince's words for the king. If Allura's facts were accurate, he could have made the king see the great insult that had been made to the Drule prince but he kept it to himself. Lotor could sense the officer's growing amusement as the scene unfolded. He was confused as why the man would take such great pleasure in him shaming himself before the king.

"Prince Lotor, I do not know where we stand after today. But consider yourself confined to your room. You are under house arrest." Lotor got up and bowed. He looked at Coran and shook his head. He was about to say something and then decided it was best to remain quiet. Whatever this was, it was not discipline. Was this human king so weak that he could not discipline a small child? This king would be laughed at in his father's court.

"As you will, King Alfor." Coran escorted him to his rooms. For three days, his meals were delivered but they were returned uneaten. Allura heard the repetitive mantra as she walked past his door. She was hurried along by Nanny. On the fourth day, Lotor returned to the real world. He took his meals and turned on the television. The media was rife with the story. Philos was dead and another boy had nerve damge in his leg. Lotor had regretted that. He had only meant to kill Philos. He may have been too harsh on the others. The noble families of the boy wanted him charged as an adult. He saw a video of Borak's arrival. He watched another of the child's funeral. More clips showed some protests in the streets. The people carried anti-Drule signs. Lotor watched, with some amusement, Borak make a statement claiming that his people understood the anger that the Arussians felt for the prince and that his people were also saddened by these turn of events. At least, he thought, his father had decided to do something about this. He had wondered if he was going to just sit her and rot. His father could have gotten rid of him for good.

Lotor could only imagine what was really going on behind the scenes. He knew that somewhere Borak was laying down what would happen under Drule Law if anything befell the Great King's son. Unknown to the humans, the prince predicted, certain edicts may have already been enacted. This was now a matter for the Supreme Council to debate. He wondered how long they were going to keep his father, their greatest warmaster, on a leash.

The humans, he knew were going to far this time. They were detaining a Drule imperial prince against his will and for no cause under the Drule's Laws. The fact that they were meaningless on Arus was a moot point. The protection of the Laws applied to every acknowledged Drule, even a hybrid like himself. The humans had denied him a right to counsel. At his age; he should have been returned to his father for discipline since he was assaulted first. Technically, the boys' families could not claim the right of vengeance since they attacked first. If the boy's father felt vengeance was to be had he had the right to ask the Emperor to call Zarkon into the Arena. Zeppo would probably deny it but the thought amused Lotor to no end. None of these things were done. Instead, he sat in a room and stared at there four walls for a month wondering when he was going home to face his father's wrath.

Four weeks passed before King Alfor summoned him to his study. Again he expected blows but he was greeted by the soft voice of the king.

"The affair has been concluded. Magistrate Borak is a very persuasive man.." He hesitated then continued.

"All that is left is for you to make a formal apology to the families and to go home." The king was unnerved at the amber eyes that fell upon him. They were defiant..

"How much lazon is my father sending to make this disappear?" The boy curtly asked.

"2,000 standard units to be divided by the families." King Alfor replied. He did not know why he answered the particulars to Lotor, he was only a child. In truth, the question surprised him. The boy's tone had demanded the information, and for whatever reason, the king offered it up.

"They settled too low. My school received 10,000 units annually for the bother of keeping me away from the court. I am a bit insulted that father got off so cheap." King Alfor was startled by the boy's arrogance.

"This is a serious matter. It has been ruled that it was self-defense but you killed a child nonetheless. Some of our people wanted to try you as an adult. You should be grateful that it ends here. My people were offended by your behavior. It could have destroyed the trade agreements." The king snapped back.

"You are worrying about mere trade agreements. Are you forgetting that your subjects assaulted an imperial prince? And then you locked him away, forbidding him to speak to anyone. My people will be more than just offended. Not one of the boy's has come to apologize to me. That is the way it is with humans, strike first and then claim innocence. Did anyone ask me if Philos's blow hurt or if I felt threatened when I was constrained by his fellows? No magistrate has come to take my statement. Should I feel remorse for defending myself?" Lotor fumed back.

"You should feel sorrow for taking the boy's life." King Alfor calmly stated.

"He insulted my family. He struck me. He spit in my face. He touched my hair. It was my right to take his life for that sacrilege for his actions. But do not think I have not meditated on his death, I have. My first kill should have been a worthy opponent, not some poorly trained child." Lotor answered in a smug tone that King Alfor was not used to.

"You are allowed to go free because of my generosity." King Alfor stated.

"I am free because you want my planet's lazon, King Alfor… the Generous. Also, I am sure that Borak made it quite clear that if any of your people so much as harmed a hair on my head my father would be wiping your blood off of his sword. Humans think he is called the Demon King because of his looks, I assure you that the title is derived from worse things. As Coran likes to point out to me, my family is of Wyvern blood." Lotor bristled. His eyes seemed to flicker as the tensions rose between the two royals. The king did not fail to notice the implied threats in the boy's voice. They were not idle ones. Alfor was thinking how he can possibly defuse the situation.

"Prince Lotor, I was hoping for more than that when we agreed to let you into our home. We hoped that there could be an understanding between our two people. We want to learn about you as much as we hoped you wanted to learn about us. At least, that is what your father and I discussed when he breached the idea." King Alfor responded softly in hopes of reengaging the boy on a more civil note.

"It seems to me that the required understanding applies only to Drules." Lotor shot back. At times, the king found it hard to believe that a ten year old boy stood in front of him. He argued like a seasoned diplomat.

"That would be unfortunate. Perhaps we can work harder at understanding our neighbors." King Alfor offered.

"Perhaps, in this context, is an ambiguous word." Lotor's voice was clipped. He could feel the anger welling up inside him. He looked for discipline to control it.

"Now, about the apology…" King Alfor continued but Lotor cut him short.

"I do not understand the apology. Did my father ask of it?" Lotor fumed.

"No, he did not." The king answered sullenly. "But it is needed for peace to continue between our two peoples. It would help me better deal with the noble families involved"

""Of course he did not, the offense ws made to him. Who broached the topic of reparations? My father or you?" Lotor demanded.

"My lawyers suggested that it might ease the tension between us. Your father's magistrates agreed." The king answered hesitantly. All of a sudden he sensed his people had made a grave mistake.

"They have reparations – and now they demand that I give apology when they were inappropriate? Your people are mad and you are a fool to support them, though I did expect it." Lotor sighed. King Alfor could swear he heard disappointment in the prince's voice.

"You hurt these families. It is considered the right thing to do." An exasperated King Alfor answered back.

"Why? Is your rule not secure? Do they control their king or does their king control them? These families would have been a source of amusement on my world. Four nobles' sons should have been able to take one child. I could only think that there pride has suffered because their families are embarrassed. We have a saying on Doom – _Pride is a luxury for the foolish_."

"This is more than just pride. There is a dead child involved. You must apologize so that healing can begin." King Alfor sighed.

"Then there will be no healing. It grieves me to say no since you have been a gracious host, but I will not." Lotor looked at him, the defiance blazing in those alien eyes.

"You must leave Arus immediately." King Alfor dismissed the child.

"With pleasure, My Lord. May I be dismissed?" Lotor threw his hair back in defiance.

"Stay in your quarters. Your kingdom's transport shall be leaving shortly." King Alfor said with great sorrow. The child's death was meaningless to this young prince. Coran had been correct all along. A monster had been sharing his home. Lotor sensed the King's revulsion and placed it. He assumed the king was angry because he had shed blood in his home something he should have been disciplined for. Instead everyone kept blathering on about the dead child. He wanted to feel remorse, for that would have pleased the king, but in his heart there was none. He truly enjoyed the rush of his life when he snapped the boy's neck. It took everything in him to stop when he did, but four dead children would have been excessive.

Looking back, when Lotor was older and wiser and a ruler in his own right, he would pull that day out of his thoughts and reflect upon them. It was the day that he decided that the only way for there to be peace among the Drules and humans was for one of the species "understanding" to become the accepted one. It was fitting that he, being a product of both, would make that decision for all of them. He thought about one of their great texts and bit his lower lip. A human did something no Drule would ever do, betray his chosen master without an open challenge. This man's follower had sold him for 30 talents of silver. He had no idea what a talent was but he knew of silver and gold. For a far smaller amount, when taken as a percentage of his father's almost limitless wealth, King Alfor had sold out the entire human race for nothing.

Lotor knew the reparations would never come. Had King Alfor made the boys apologize to Lotor, his father would have respected the Arussian king for his appropriate actions. He would have had to keep his hand still the king would have shown respect to him and his heir. He would have sent the lazon as a peace offering, far more than what was agreed to. The Law demanded it. Instead, the king had shown himself to be beholden to his nobles. Lotor would tell his father how weak the human king was. Reparations should not have even been discussed let alone an apology. Lotor knew that something was going to have to give for all of this. And in truth, he was glad that he was the child of Zarkon as he went back to his room. Before this was over, the people of Arus would learn to hate his father as much as he did.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Nine: Farewell to Arus

The king sent the unrepentant prince back to his rooms. For once, there were no guards posted. He did not know if this meant he was going to leave within a few hours or if this was some show of good will but he was glad for it. The servants were ordered not to talk to him except to attend to his most basic needs. His bags were packed. There was little to do but wait. Lotor had watched the transport land several weeks ago. He had no doubt that a large attack fleet in space somewhere just out of the Arussian sensor range. The ship bore the Ninth Kingdom's symbol, a large skull. Lotor's heart was racing. He, for the first time in a month, left his suite. He ran through the Castle, avoiding all the servants, looking for Allura. He was desperate to say goodbye. He found her in her mother's suite. Someone had obviously told her that he was leaving today. She was a site to behold. She had found her mother's cosmetics and painted her face with blue eye shadow. Lotor burst out in laughter. Tears were running down Allura's face mixing with the powder making blue streaks.

"I will disguise myself as a Drule and we can go back to Korrinoth together." He shook his head and looked for a washcloth.

"The time for our games is over. You would hate my world. Korrinoth is dark all the time. Every morning we awake to thunderous storms. There is little sun. There are no colored leaves or white snow to jump in. There are no apples to pick. There are no tree houses to play in. Like a beautiful flower without sustenance you would wither away." He whispered as he carefully wiped away the make-up.

"You will come back and visit. Korrinoth is not so far for a Drule. I missed you so much. Mother said you were being punished for hurting the boys. The next time I see Philos, I will punch him so hard. When I am queen I will never invite him to the Castle." She offered back. Lotor, for the first time, realized that the princess had been kept in the dark as to what had happened to Philos that night.

"No. I have worn out my welcome here. Father will send me to an academy now." He seemed satisfied with the job and turned her back to the mirror. "There, little sister. That is so much better. You do not look good as a Drule. When I am older I will come back for you and make you my queen. I will build you a palace that can see all of Arus and high enough for me to see Korrinoth. "

"Now who is being the silly one? Korrinoth is in the next quadrant." She gave a small laugh.

"I am the grandson of a Wyvern prince. If I say it can be, it can be. We are beings of what you call magic." His hand traced her cheek. A finger found her bottom lip. "Pretty mouth." He leaned over and gave her a little kiss. It tickled. She giggled. "I have kissed you. Allura is mine." He desperately tried to recreate the elusive bliss that the simple act had given him before, but only a faint shadow of it remained. Perhaps, he had just dreamed it all. Lotor did not even bother to turn around. He heard the rhythm of the heartbeat of the man that was watching the scene.

"You were to remain in your quarters until the tranport's departure." The annoyed voice filled the room.

"Coran, how kind of you to escort me to my ship." Lotor said dismissively. Allura did not notice the dry sarcasm. She thought Lotor was always overly polite to Coran, nothing more.

"By your leave, your Royal Majesty." Lotor heard the man's hate for him in those words and his eyes narrowed. Coran extended his hand towards the door. He knew how badly Coran wanted him gone. Lotor had never been inappropriate to him so he did not understand why this man detested him so. Lotor touched her golden hair one last time and followed the surly man. As he left, he heard Allura start to cry again. He turned to go back but Coran grabbed him by the shoulder.

"This childhood romance is over. Drules and humans should not mix." Coran gave the prince a slight push forward. "You're a perfect example of what happens when they do, an abomination."

"I was wondering if you knew. The doctors at home are just as intrigued. I should not exist, but I do. It does not matter. One day I shall rule Arus by her side and you will have to bow down to me." Lotor grumbled back.

"Big words from such a small prince." Coran replied with more than a hint of disgust in his voice.

"I will not be small forever." The young boy snarled as he pulled away from the man's grip. An absurd smirk crossed the Drule's lip as they came closer to the transport. Coran knew that the Drule had smelled fear on him.

_No, little prince – you won't. One day you will be a big, blood thirsty Drule who will throw his weight around this galaxy. You will conquer worlds and enslave populations because that is what your nature demands of you. You will disregard other's sufferings because everyone ignored you when you lay broken and beaten. You will come for Arus because it is the only place that you found love and peace. But when you return you will be beyond that – won't you? Better you die in one of your blood soaked arenas than Allura see what you will become. Let her remember the pretty angel that kissed her than the demon about to emerge._

The prince was surprised to see Haggar, not Magistrate Borak, waiting for him. Coran felt a shiver run through him as the beautiful woman moved toward him and the boy. She looked almost human until she flashed her pointed canines revealing her species. For a race that was supposedly nearly extinct the Wyverins seemed to be cropping up all over the place on Arus. Lotor walked more briskly, eager to join her. Haggar had always been kind to him for some unknown reason. She gave him many interesting things. Coran happily handed off the boy to woman, who pulled him close.

"My Prince, I bring you affection." Coran rolled his eyes as he politely dismissed himself. Haggar glared at him but returned her attentions to her prince. She saw concern on his face as she brought him onboard the transport. She was puzzled by it.

"I have failed father completely. He will surely throw me into the dungeons." He threw his head into his lap and pulled at his hair with a groan. The food was terrible in the dungeons and he was looking forward to his first real meal in months.

"Do not fear. Your father is delighted at these turn of events. For once, you have actually pleased him. To think, that his poor child, after being assaulted by humans has been banished from Arus. My, my…why would one be friendly towards such an uncivilized people. The whole trip to that wretched place must have been a terrible ordeal to suffer through. Enough to cause a diplomatic incident…that may not go so well for this planet." She went to smooth his hair. He grabbed her wrist. She sighed and let go.

"It seems I will be a footnote in their history books. I am the first Drule to kill an Arussian on their soil. What have I done?" He threw his hands into his lap. He looked so small.

"I'm afraid you will be more than a footnote. I think you will make at least a paragraph. The Arussians acted disgracefully towards you." She crooned. "The Drule Supremacy is not taking the assault against you and your confinement lying down…they may even look the other way if your father breaks the peace agreement."

"He is planning on conquering Arus. He really means to do it." The witch confirmed this. His father would have never offered reparations, it was all a lie in order to get Lotor home.

"It was your mother's world…does this sadden you? Maybe King Alfor will just agree to be his vassal and no bloodshed will come." Haggar gently offered.

"Doubtful, humans are very stupid." He gave a funny snort. "As to being my mother's world, what does that matter to me. I am a Korronnite." Tears fell down the boy's face. He knew his father would bomb Arus back into the stone age. The witch just stood there not knowing what to do.

"I know what you are feeling. It is easy to be seduced by such things. We are Wyvren. It is in our nature to love beautiful things we cannot have." She went to reach for him again. He looked so small, so lost. He growled as her hand approached.

"Witch, you forget your place. My father has not made you his queen" She sighed. She had meant to be maternal. The Drules's obsession with the concept of Jain's blood amused her to no end. Even as the court looked down on him for his genetics, they envied him for his hair for it marked him as an heir of the Empress Jain. It proved he was truly royal, descended from the greatest warrior that ever lived. The list was short over who could touch him. His parents, a high priest, a medical doctor, someone he has offered submission to, his harem, his children, and last but not least, his wife. Whores could touch him but she could not.

"_Shoshi_, stop being such an idiot. I get to play doctor on you today. Come with me boy, I will reset that nose of yours. We must keep our prince looking handsome." She said as she pulled him up and took him to the sickbay. She did not need to touch his hair as she fixed him up, but she did. The boy did not realize that they were descended from the same ancient warrior. He was as much hers as he was Althea's. She had brought that woman to Zarkon. She had supplied her with the elixirs to make this child possible. She had made sure the right genes had been triggered off to produce that head of hair. The prince would have never existed was it not for her magic. She was going to be Queen of Doom one day. If Zarkon could not give her what she wanted than maybe Lotor could. After all, an Emperor needed many kings and queens to rule the worlds under his control. By the time Lotor was finished, Korrinoth would only be one of many in his Empire. Her visions always came true.


End file.
